


Falling with Grace

by shiiki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Marauders' Era, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-04
Updated: 2007-07-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 15:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 57,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12413274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiiki/pseuds/shiiki
Summary: They reached adulthood in a time of war, and left school determined to fight. Lily and James Potter fell in the end, but before they did, they made a great difference to the wizarding world … and left it a legacy.Part III of the Ashes Trilogy.





	1. 01 Tied Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**_Disclaimer_ ** _: I am, again, borrowing from the magnificent JK Rowling, to whom I am eternally grateful for allowing us so much freedom to play in her world._

**_A/N_** _: This is the final part of the_ Ashes Trilogy. _It’s probably able to be read alone, but I’d recommend that you read_ From Ashes _and_ Rising from Embers _first, because I’ve built up the plot from there._

_Again and again, I must thank **jamc91** for her efforts in beta-ing this, and stepping up to the challenge of getting this fic complete before the _ Deathly Hallows _release date. Our goal is a chapter a week up to then. All encouragement to keep with that goal is very much appreciated!_

_This story is dedicated to my reviewers. Thank you for making this a wonderful and memorable journey!_

**CHAPTER ONE:** **Tied Hands**

_August, 1977_

_Ministry of Magic_

_Department of Magical Education and Research_

_Charms Division_

_Dear Miss Evans,_

_I am pleased to inform you that based on your recent exemplary results for your N.E.W.T.s, and the more-than-satisfactory report from our Interviews Officer, the Charms Division of the Department of Magical Education and Research would like to offer you a junior position with our Experimental Charms research team._

_If you wish to consider working with Charms as a career option, please send your return owl by the thirty-first of July._

_We await your return owl._

_Yours Sincerely,_

**_Graham Staples_**

_Head of Division_

Lily Evans stood inside the Muggle entrance to the Ministry of Magic – an out-of-order telephone box in a seedy district of London – nervously clutching her employment letter in her fist. 

This was it. Her new job as Junior Charms Researcher with the Ministry’s Department of Magical Education and Research would begin in less than fifteen minutes. Her initiation into the wizarding working world – a job that was meant to support her and pay her rent. 

She also saw it as the means to an end: an opportunity to create the protective spells so desperately needed in a war-torn nation. 

Lily had known before she had even left school that she would stand against the Dark wizard Voldemort. She had already foiled him once, helping to save the lives of her friends and schoolmates during a Death Eater attack on the wizarding village of Hogsmeade. She would continue to do so, with whatever talents, whatever capabilities that she had. And that included an aptitude for Charms. A strength that she hoped she could bank on, to wield a powerful shield for the Light side. 

It was a daring plan of miraculous proportions. Just thinking about it scared Lily – and she wasn’t sure what was more frightening: the thought of failure, or the possible complications of success. 

But she wouldn’t know if she never took the next step forward. Which was to dial six-two-four-four-two on the telephone. 

‘Welcome to the Ministry of Magic,’ stated the mechanical, recorded voice. ‘Please state your name and business.’ 

‘Lily Evans,’ Lily said, taking a deep breath, ‘Junior Charms Researcher.’ 

~ * ~ 

_Ministry of Magic_

_Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

_Auror Headquarters_

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_It is our pleasure to tell you that your application to the Auror Academy has been accepted._

_Successful applicants are to gather report to the Auror Academy at Tintagel Castle, Cornwall, on the first of September where they will await further orders._

_We would like to remind you that a career as an Auror is highly dangerous and requires great strength of mind as well as intellect. The training will take three consecutive years of learning and testing. More than half of our trainees fail to make the cut each year. Please do not attempt this career option without serious dedication._

_Congratulations on your successful application, and I wish you all the best should you decide to carry on with the training._

_Yours Sincerely,_

**_Bartemius Crouch_ **

_Head of Department_

_Magical Law Enforcement_

It should have been something to celebrate – acceptance into the Auror Academy, a chance to join the elite in battle against Voldemort. The opportunity to make a difference. But it didn’t feel quite right to James Potter. 

The war with Voldemort had continued to get steadily worse over the past month. The last remaining Dementors of Azkaban Prison had finally defected. It was summer, but the weather was cold and gloomy, as the soul-sucking monstrosities ran loose all over Britain. 

Diagon Alley and all the other market streets of wizarding Britain were ghost towns. People occasionally passed through, huddled in groups; no one dared travel alone. In fact, it was already rare for people to wander outside their home. Wizarding security firms were doing a roaring trade in private home-warding, despite the common knowledge that if the most powerful Dark Wizard of the age wanted to kill you, a few paltry spells weren’t about to stop him. 

And still, Voldemort gained power. Supporters continued to flock to him, and not just from the wizarding community too. He was gathering werewolves – it took James’s friend Remus Lupin a full week after receiving the dreadful letter to stop shaking – and it was rumoured that he was allying himself with the giants from the continent too. 

Their world was falling apart, and not even the Ministry, despite Bartemius Crouch’s best efforts as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, seemed to be able to prevent it. With the Dementors gone from the wizarding prison, a significant number of Aurors had to be posted to Azkaban to guard it; add this to the number who had been murdered, and the once-formidable team of Aurors was reduced to a skeleton. They needed more help. 

And James needed to do _something_. For that very reason, he and his best mate, Sirius Black, had sent off their applications to the Auror Academy even before their N.E.W.T. results had arrived by owl. Seven Outstanding N.E.W.T.s apiece had practically guaranteed them entry to the prestigious Academy – not that prestige had anything to do with their eagerness to join. This letter of confirmation was not, in any way, a surprise. 

But his hesitation in replying to it was. 

He and Sirius had first wanted to join the Aurors in order to be able to join forces against Voldemort. To hunt him down and bring him to justice. Initially, when they had first decided this, it had been a lark – an extension of their campaign of hexing Slytherins in the Hogwarts corridors when they had been arrogant, ignorant prats of fifth-years. 

Then his ideals had changed, to become more serious, as events during the last two years of school had shaken his world and forced him to change, he hoped, for the better. He’d found himself questioning his means to an end – realising that the methods used to exact justice were in fact just as important as the final verdict. 

The Ministry of Magic, however, didn’t seem to have reached that same conclusion, after seven years of war. Conversely, Bartemius Crouch seemed to have become more ruthless and brutal with each passing year that Voldemort remained at large. 

Two Christmases ago, he’d sanctioned an arson to kill and capture ten Death Eaters. Thirty-six Muggles had fallen in the Ash Christmas tragedy, but that hadn’t stopped Crouch from stepping up his cutthroat tactics. Just last week, James had read of an alarming initiative in the _Daily Prophet_ : the use of the Unforgivable Curses on Death Eaters by Aurors was now officially approved, even encouraged. 

The information had sent a chill down James’s spine. If he joined the Aurors now, he would be taught the Unforgivables – _Imperio_ , _Crucio_ , and _Avada Kedavra_. Curses to control, torture, and kill. They were curses used liberally by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. And now, it seemed, they would be flaunted by the Light side as well. 

How different from Voldemort would that make them? 

What would Lily, James’s brilliant, principled girlfriend, say if she realised that he was fighting Voldemort with the very weapons that the Dark wizard used to terrorise the wizarding community? James remembered clearly every biting comment that she had thrown at him in his hex-happy past, her disgust for those who would descend to the same level of their enemies. 

Lily believed in him now; James couldn’t let her down. There had to be another way to battle besides being a Dark-wizard catcher for the Ministry and playing by Bartemius Crouch’s warped logic of justice. 

~ * ~ 

Barely a fortnight into her job, Lily already felt discontent. The Charms Division of the Department for Education and Magical Research was severely understaffed: with little money being channelled to research work during the war, few people were willing to put in the long hours for low pay. As such, Lily, being the most junior staff member, was tasked to all sort of odd jobs for the senior researchers, from menial errands such as enchanting memos to tedious assignments of uncovering spell webs. Once the senior researchers had discovered her talent for Revealing Charms – one which few of them possessed – they hadn’t failed to make the most of it, keeping her busy assisting them with tweaking spells from _Accio_ to _Evanesco_. It was research that was interesting and potentially useful – just not during a time of war. 

Lily didn’t need to work a month to realise that this was going to be the extent of her contribution to the war research effort (which was basically non-existent). It was a painful shattering of ideals; instead of the glowing picture of usefulness that she had painted for herself when she imagined working together with more experienced witches and wizards on war-ready charms, she was labouring away to cater to minds capable of producing new and improved Summoning and Vanishing Spells, but seemingly uninterested in charms that might be able to save lives. 

‘It’s not possible,’ Clíodhna Finnigan told her, when Lily broached her ideas once. ‘And dangerous, sure. We’d not be wanting to bring You-Know-Who down on us, now, would we?’ 

‘No interest from the Minister,’ grumbled Graham Staples, their Head of Department. ‘Who gives a pile of Doxy droppings about research now? No – all the Galleons go into the DMLE. We haven’t a Knut to spend on funding new research.’ This effectively put a damper on any new initiative that Lily suggested. 

It was a pity, Lily thought. The Auror corps was in a sorry state – their numbers dwindling as Voldemort’s power grew; resorting to fighting back with the very curses that they were meant to eradicate. James, she knew, was hesitating to accept his place at the Auror Academy for this very reason. But if no alternative solution presented itself soon, he would go, because he would never be able to sit idle when Dark wizards ran rampage. 

She would be sorry to have him enter the Academy, knowing that he must adopt the inhumane methods of the Ministry. However, she would understand that there was no other way, because she already knew that there were few paths outside of the Aurors that enabled one to be at the front line of the battle against Voldemort. 

~ * ~ 

The chance James had been waiting for arrived late in August, on a gloomy, drizzling Saturday. The crimson bird appeared out of nowhere, trilling a high-pitched, spine-tingling note. James yelped and leapt back in surprise. 

The phoenix that usually perched in Dumbledore’s office blinked his beady black eyes at him. 

‘Fawkes,’ acknowledged James, reaching out to stroke his beautiful plumage. His hand came away with a red-gold feather. James stared inquisitively at Fawkes, who opened his beak to the lilting melody of phoenix song. A thrill washed over James – he knew, without understanding how he did, that the opportunity that he longed for, to be useful in opposing Voldemort, had come. 

With a last, haunting note, Fawkes vanished, leaving a letter in his place, addressed to James in a familiar, looping handwriting. 

Hands trembling, James unfolded the parchment to read what Dumbledore had written. 


	2. 02 A Chance to Fight

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER TWO:** **A Chance to Fight**

_August, 1977_

There were at least twenty people in the room, a huge meeting hall on the seventh floor that Lily had never even known existed. She heard James and Sirius Black exchange amused whispers about a ‘Room of Requirement’, to which Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew nodded in agreement – but then, the Marauders had known almost every inch of Hogwarts. She wouldn’t be surprised if they’d been here before. 

Looking around her, she noticed many familiar faces. Alice Moody and Dorcas Meadowes – the other two Gryffindor girls from her year. Marlene McKinnon of Ravenclaw, who had been a year ahead of them. Frank Longbottom and Emmeline Vance, the Head Boy and Girl when Lily had been a first-year. Hagrid the Hogwarts Gamekeeper, Professor McGonagall, and Albus Dumbledore himself, of course … 

And a familiar grim face that looked much more grizzled since the last time she’d seen it, nearly two years ago. 

Alastor Moody caught her eye and made his way over to her. 

‘Miss Evans,’ he said gruffly. ‘So – our paths cross again.’ 

~ * ~ 

‘Our world is falling,’ said Dumbledore gravely. ‘The Ministry is unable to stop Lord Voldemort from gaining power and control. We have all seen the situation deteriorate year after year. Now, it is time something is done, before it is too late.’ 

‘But what can we do, sir?’ said a square-jawed wizard in a purple cloak. 

‘Whatever we can,’ a tall wizard with flaming red hair – one of a pair of twins standing in the corner opposite James – said promptly. 

‘Thank you, Mr Prewett,’ said Dumbledore. ‘I am about to ask a great deal of all of you.’ He raised a hand to stroke the beautiful plumage of the phoenix beside him. Fawkes opened his beak and let out a warbling note. ‘All of you come from different walks of life, representing different Hogwarts houses – but I hope that you will agree to come together for one united purpose. I ask all of you to face dangers and run high risks. I ask you to go where no other dares, to continue fighting when all else fails; in short, to save our world from Voldemort’s destruction. 

‘The Ministry is fighting a losing battle, from inside and out. Voldemort’s spies have infiltrated it, and bureaucracy is ineffective in fighting a war. You are all sorely needed. _You_ are our last hope. 

‘Today, you must make a choice, between what is right, and what is easy. I will not force anyone to stand with me, but I hope you will all consider joining this new Order, in the hopes of forging a better future for the wizarding world.’ 

It wasn’t a difficult choice to make. James glanced at the parchment that was handed to him. It was completely blank, and looked perfectly ordinary, but he knew it was more than just that. Just as the decision he was about to make was more than just a choice. If he said yes, if he signed that parchment, he was pledging his life to the cause. 

And yet, there was no hesitation. James knew, without a shred of doubt, that this was his path. This was the answer to what he had been looking for: a resistance group, which would fight by the principles of what was _right_. He wasn’t going to wait for three years of Auror training only to have to sink to the enemy’s low in fighting back; his mind was made up in an instant. He’d quit the Auror Academy immediately. Here was his calling, his destiny. Someone had handed him a knife; he flicked its blade across the palm of his left hand and a bead of blood dripped down. It touched the parchment, and the letters curled midway down the page. 

_James Andrew Potter_. 

Dumbledore nodded grimly, and shifted the parchment towards Sirius. The others watched solemnly. Marlene McKinnon handed him a handkerchief and he rubbed absently at the small cut on his palm. 

Sirius went through the same ritual, not even wincing as the sharp blade touched his palm. The name _Sirius Orion Black_ curled across the parchment and faded. One by one, everyone added their names. One by one, the words bled into the parchment. When they had finished, there was a strange, almost tangible bond between them all. It was as though that they had all been irrevocably linked to each other – they were no longer strangers, but brothers and sisters of a cause. 

‘Welcome,’ said Dumbledore, ‘to the Order of the Phoenix.’ 

~ * ~ 

Lily twisted her hands nervously behind her back as she sat in the high-backed chair facing Alastor Moody. He stared at her with piercing black eyes which bore into her face as though they could see past her skin, into her brain. It didn’t make her feel very calm. 

Dumbledore broke the silence, approaching the table with a tea tray. 

‘Tea, Alastor?’ he said, setting the tray down with a clink. 

‘I’d prefer not,’ said Moody. He reached a gnarled hand into his cloak and extracted a hip-flask. ‘I’ve got my own drink.’ 

‘Miss Evans?’ 

‘Oh, yes, please, Professor,’ said Lily. Dumbledore smiled at her, and gracefully poured a cup, which he held out courteously. He then served himself and took his seat. 

‘Well, Alastor, I assume you had something to say to both Miss Evans and me, since you requested this private meeting,’ said Dumbledore, after a few moments of silence and tea-sipping (or in Moody’s case, drinking from his hip-flask). 

‘You assume right. It’s about Miss Evans, Albus. There’s something she can do – quite unique, it is, and I want to know if you’re going to do anything about it.’ 

Lily looked at Moody in astonishment, before she realised that he had only ever seen her execute one spell before – her first attempt at revealing a spell web. A thrill of anticipation ran down her spine. Was Moody suggesting … was it possible that she would have a chance to attempt what she had hoped she could upon starting work? 

‘I believe Miss Evans was an excellent student in the fields of Charms and Potions,’ agreed Dumbledore, with a nod in Lily’s direction. ‘Horace Slughorn, in fact, gave rather glowing reports about her marks –’ 

‘I’m talking about Charms, Albus. Two Christmases ago, I saw her succeed at uncovering the spell web of a Containment Charm put up by experienced Aurors.’ 

Lily remembered it, too. Her first attempt, a brief success at producing the shining, golden, visible form of magic. It hadn’t ultimately managed to help at that point of time, but it had led to further trials and lessons from Professor Flitwick, developing her skill until she could reveal almost any charm now. 

Except one. 

‘I am aware,’ acknowledged Dumbledore, ‘that Miss Evans is particularly accomplished at Charms. Her splendid marks at N.E.W.T. level attest to that –’ 

‘I’m not talking about examination results, Dumbledore!’ growled Moody. ‘I want to know how much the girl can _do_.’ He was talking about Lily in the third person, as if he had forgotten that she was in the room. 

‘Of course. Miss Evans, I believe you were taking extra lessons with Professor Flitwick last year?’ 

‘Yes, sir.’ 

‘And the result of these lessons …’ Dumbledore’s eyes had an encouraging twinkle in them; Lily understood that he already knew what she was capable of, but was allowing her to speak to Moody herself. 

She turned to address the wrinkled Auror. ‘I’m able to do more than what I tried two years ago, sir.’ 

Moody’s dark eyes scrutinised her keenly. ‘And if I were to request a demonstration?’ His gaze flickered to Dumbledore. ‘With your permission, of course, Albus?’ 

‘Certainly. Miss Evans?’ 

‘What – which spell would you like?’ 

‘ _Av_ – no, let’s try _Wingardium Leviosa_ first.’ Moody crossed his arms on the table and watched her expectantly. 

Lily took a deep breath and held out her wand. ‘ _Revelio Wingardium Leviosa_!’ The criss-crossing lines of light that illustrated the magical energy perpetuating the charm blossomed from the end of her wand, spreading out to form a net above the table. She held it there for a minute before Moody nodded and motioned for her to drop the spell. 

‘Impressive,’ he said, making Lily flush with pride at the respect in his tone. ‘What more can you do?’ 

‘Almost everything I’ve tried.’ 

Her choice of words did not escape him. ‘Almost?’ 

‘I – there was one I couldn’t do.’ 

‘Which was?’ 

Lily glanced hesitantly at Dumbledore before she answered, in a barely audible whisper, ‘ _Avada Kedavra_.’ What would Dumbledore think of her playing with the killing curse? And at Hogwarts, too, although she hadn’t mentioned that bit. Her intentions had been honourable, but nevertheless, it was a dangerous curse to be messing about with. 

Moody drew in a sharp breath – whether he was shocked or impressed by her answer, Lily couldn’t tell. 

‘Lily,’ Dumbledore addressed her. She met his eyes a little timidly. ‘Why did you try to reveal that particular spell?’ 

‘I – I thought of … I wanted to create a spell. A charm to – to counter it.’ She made herself speak louder, more boldly. ‘I think it’s possible to invent a Shield Charm for _Avada Kedavra_.’ 

There – she had said it. Her brilliant idea, which her colleagues and superiors at work had dismissed as impossible or too improbable to warrant trying. Now she would find out if Moody and Dumbledore believed it to be so as well. 

‘Most people would believe that impossible,’ said Dumbledore quietly. 

‘I don’t,’ said Moody. ‘If a curse to kill can be created, I say a charm to protect against it can be conceived as well.’ He thumped his fist exuberantly on the table, almost sending Lily’s teacup flying. ‘And Miss Evans here could be our chance of discovering it.’ 

Lily felt the excitement bubble up in her at Moody’s impassioned words. He believed it was possible – he believed _she_ could make it possible … 

Dumbledore, however, was more guarded. ‘I’m still uncertain as to whether magic can counter death. And this is a dangerous endeavour, Alastor.’ He turned to Lily seriously. ‘You understand the possible implications of your experiment – that you may find yourself drawn towards the power in that curse? You will have to become very close to the killing curse if you are to study it – perhaps even learn how to use it. Do you realise the dangers associated?’ 

‘It wouldn’t be easy, Professor,’ Lily found herself saying, knowing suddenly the very reasoning that would convince the Headmaster, ‘but it would be right.’ 

 Dumbledore’s blue eyes peered at her in surprise, which gave way to twinkling delight. ‘Indeed, Miss Evans. Well, it does seem that both of you have given this a great deal of thought. I assume you have something to propose, then, Alastor?’ 

Moody nodded grimly. ‘I want to make this a personal project for Miss Evans – her contribution to the Order. She’ll do best with this.’ 

‘If you’re happy with this arrangement, of course, Lily …’ 

She nodded fervently. ‘I am.’ 

‘I wish you luck, then.’ 

~ * ~ 

Moody had arranged a meeting in the Shrieking Shack of Hogsmeade. Lily had never actually been inside the Shack – it was rumoured to be haunted by violent ghosts, who gathered there once a month to moan and howl. Moody had assured her, however, that it was perfectly safe. ‘Dumbledore charmed it himself – he had that old shack built some years back.’ 

When Lily Apparated into the Shack, there was a dark-haired witch standing in the living room, her back towards Lily. She turned in response to the _pop_ of Lily’s Apparition, and Lily had the chance to observe her face. She had the most striking eyes Lily had ever seen – large, round and protuberant. They made her appear to glow with a foreign light. 

Before either of them could say anything, however, a second _pop_ indicated Moody’s arrival. He clomped over, his wooden leg thudding against the floorboards of the Shack. 

‘Both here already,’ he said. ‘Good. I don’t suppose you’ve met before, so – Lily Evans, Eurydice Ollivander.’ He nodded towards each of them in turn, by way of introduction. 

‘Eurydice Elizabeth Ollivander,’ said the witch, making a face. ‘I’m sure you’ll understand why I prefer to go by ‘Liz’.’ 

‘Of course.’ 

‘Formalities aside,’ continued Moody, ‘we’re here to work. You’re both here because you’ve the finest brains for Charms we have on hand, so I’m expecting a lot from you.’ 

‘What’s the assignment, then?’ asked Liz. 

‘A Shield Charm for _Avada Kedavra_ ,’ said Moody. Liz’s jaw dropped. 

‘You can’t be serious.’ 

‘Oh, I am, Miss Ollivander. Dead serious.’ 

‘But – there’s no precedence, no research –’ 

‘Are you a Charms Researcher or not?’ Moody barked. 

Liz gaped at him for a moment before replying, ‘Of course. I was just – surprised. This … well, with the right elements … and we’d need someone really talented with spellcrafting – we’d have to tamper with the killing curse’s spell web –’ 

‘That’s where Miss Evans comes in,’ interrupted Moody. He whipped his head around to look directly at Lily. ‘I need you to do a Revealing Spell on this.’ Then, without warning, he lashed out at a spider in the corner of the room – ‘ _Avada Kedavra_!’ 

The bolt of green light seared across the room and struck the arachnid dead. Lily couldn’t help flinching from shock and horror. Just like that – two words, a flash of light … and a life – albeit that of a spider – had just ended. She was reminded vividly of the murder of Zinnia Prewett: a green beam streaking through the darkness, followed by a dull thump. The killing curse was swift, merciless, _evil_ ; this was why it was so important for them to come up with a counter-curse. 

Moody had cupped his hands around the dead spider, and was now holding it out for her, evidently expecting her to do something. Lily, however, wasn’t too sure if she was supposed to do the Revealing Charm on the spider itself. It wasn’t as though the killing curse was still present and active. 

‘There’ll be a residue,’ said Liz, looking shaken but still relatively steady. ‘The curse leaves its imprint – so you can track it, if you act quickly enough.’ 

Understanding, Lily nodded and waved her wand over the spider. ‘ _Perspicuous Avada Kedavra_!’ 

It was working: over the spider, smoky, writhing threads began to form. And the most frightening feeling of revulsion started to grow within her, so intense that she felt nauseous. This was the manifestation of _Avada Kedavra_ , Lily realised – a nefarious, sadistic embodiment of malevolence. A power so strong that it could easily corrupt the controller of the curse. The longer she held on to the spell, the sicker she felt. When she could stand it no longer, she dropped her wand, trembling from head to toe. 

‘ _Finite Incantatem_ ,’ said Moody quietly, erasing all traces of the web she had created. 

‘Rowena’s pixies!’ breathed Liz, who was visibly shaking. ‘That was …’ 

‘ _Avada Kedavra_ , in its visible form,’ said Lily, finding herself panting as though she had just flown a trans-Atlantic broom race. ‘Not a very – not a very clear web, but the bare bones.’ 

‘And we’ll have to work with that.’ 

‘That’s right. Are you going to get squeamish on me now, Miss Ollivander?’ 

Liz shook her head. ‘No. It’s probably going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but in the end, if it’s going to save lives … you can’t keep me away from it, Alastor.’ 

Moody gave her an approving nod. ‘Miss Evans? Now that you’ve seen what you’re up against?’ 

‘I – I might take a while to get used to conjuring the web … maybe even without having someone cast the spell for me, now that I know what it’s supposed to be like …’ Lily wasn’t really answering the question, but Moody seemed to understand the underlying sentiments of her words: they were going to do this, and it was only a matter of how. 

~ * ~ 

The sounds coming from Lily’s room were odd. 

‘Odd sort of girl, she is,’ said her Mancunian landlord, shrugging, with a hint of a grin that seemed to indicate that ‘odd’ wasn’t unattractive to him. James felt the bile rise in his throat, as he wondered for the umpteenth time why Lily wouldn’t just accept his invitation to stay with him. Surely Potter Manor couldn’t be worse than a place like this? 

James chose to ignore the landlord, and he put his ear to Lily’s door. Inside, something was grinding and slicking. Curious, he knocked, softly at first and then louder, when Lily didn’t respond. She still didn’t reply – worried, James eased open the door a crack and peered in cautiously. 

Lily was concentrating hard on the strangest looking model he had ever seen. Beads of sweat were breaking across her forehead as she drew, with her wand, little maggot-like brown creatures that flashed green quite attractively. It stirred something in James, a red-hot desire – whatever those green things were (and they suddenly looked more brightly green than ever), they were powerful. James crept closer, fascinated. He reached out a hand … 

‘Don’t touch that!’ screamed Lily. 

James stared at her. Lily’s face looked contorted, twisted in anger. He recoiled in horror. 

‘James – please, stand back,’ cried Lily. She sounded far away and afraid. James came back to his senses with a jolt, withdrawing his hand. The world seemed to slide back into focus. Lily looked normal again, though sweated and scared. James turned back to the creatures, and realised they were actually paths of light, ugly and brown, turning upon themselves. He understood now – Lily had been making a spell web. But what horrible spell was this? 

‘ _Finite Incantatem_.’ Lily had to murmur it three times before all traces of the spell she had been meddling with disappeared. Her knees wobbled and she sank backwards onto the bed. James rushed to her side. 

‘Lily, what are you doing?’ 

She looked around anxiously. ‘James, you shouldn’t have come in – if you’d touched that –’ 

‘What _was_ that?’ 

‘A spell web. Of – of _Avada Kedavra_.’ 

James stared at her in horror. A spell web of the killing curse? 

‘What would have happened if I’d touched it?’ 

‘I don’t know. I don’t want to risk it. It’s possible – it’s possible that it could have killed you. It _is_ the killing curse, after all.’ 

James shivered. Lily had literally called him back from death. 

‘How come you’re trying that here?’ he said finally, not wanting to dwell on the morbid thought any longer. ‘How come you ended up experimenting?’ 

‘I’m sorry – I didn’t really mean to do it in here. I usually work with – well, it’s for the Order. It’s just that I needed to manage to create it on my own, without somebody casting the spell for me, because otherwise I can’t get to the bottom of it, and we can’t proceed – I haven’t done it before, you know. The last time I tried to do it myself, at Hogwarts, nothing happened.’ 

‘How did you manage it now, then?’ 

Lily twisted her hands in her lap guiltily. 

‘Come on. Tell me.’ 

‘I used anger,’ she whispered. ‘I had to summon anger … _hate_. It’s just like working the curse – drawing on the emotions behind it. I have this awful feeling that I might possibly be able to cast it now if I tried, only I don’t want to try. And it worked. I saw the same thing too, James. The green light, the power …’ 

‘But you didn’t touch it.’ Thank Merlin not. 

‘No. It just … faded. I don’t know why, I just knew I didn’t want that kind of power, and I wanted to destroy that spell. That’s when the green disappeared and I saw the bare bones of _Avada Kedavra_.’ 

‘It’s based on hate, isn’t it?’ 

‘Not only that. That’s the hard part. The green light – it’s actually an important part of the spell. I’m glad I saw it, actually, because it helped me understand. It’s a thirst for power, it’s righteous indignation, vengeance – all the excuses that people need to kill. Underneath all that, it’s fuelled by hatred – the brown bit. But only the green light comes out because the want for power is so strong, and so seductive. That’s why it’s so dangerous, James. This curse is addictive.’ 

James thought of the brown light – could it even be called light? – writhing and coiling onto itself, making squelching, grinding noises. And how it had flashed green when he’d first seen it. He buried his face in his hands, not wanting to face Lily and admit that he had thought the power of the killing curse attractive, even if it had only been for a minute, when he hadn’t known what it was. She’d said that the curse was addictive. Had he nearly been sucked in? 

Lily pulled his hands away and forced him to look at her. 

‘It – it had an effect on me,’ he admitted hoarsely. 

Lily patted his back gently. ‘Tell me,’ she said. 

So he told her, about Voldemort and what he’d said in Hogsmeade. About how the world had felt different, when he saw the spell web of the killing curse. And his fears of being seduced by power. 

_There is no right or wrong, James Potter. But there is power._ Voldemort’s cold, chilling voice tempting him. He could remember it as clear as it had been yesterday. 

Lily studied his face carefully when he finished. Then she said, simply, ‘I know you won’t be blinded by power.’ 

‘But even if I don’t join Voldemort, it’d be just as bad if I fought him with Dark magic.’ 

‘You won’t. James, you stopped yourself from touching that spell web. It’s okay if it seems appealing at first. In the end, you rejected it.’ 

‘You stopped me,’ said James morosely. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened if Lily hadn’t called out to him. 

‘No – James, I don’t think it would have helped unless you knew you had to fight it in the first place,’ said Lily firmly. ‘Believe me.’ 

‘It was like you were in a faraway place. I wanted to get back to you.’ James touched her cheek softly. ‘I think you keep me anchored, Lily. You’ve always taught me what was right.’ 

She gently placed one hand over his heart and leaned forward to kiss him. ‘You already know it in here.’ 


	3. 03 Braving the War

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER THREE:** Braving the War 

_September 1977 to March 1978_

The months following the inception of the Order of the Phoenix could only be described as dangerously heroic. James and Sirius immediately gave up their plans to become Aurors and leapt into working for the Order. Thankfully, neither was so hard up for money as to need a job, so they were both free to pour time and resources into fighting Voldemort – James had the Potter fortune, and Sirius had a surprise windfall when his Uncle Alphard named him the heir to a huge vault of gold and the older Black estate in Lincolnshire – a decision that his entire family had contested bitterly, but to no avail. 

Two weeks after their first meeting, the Order foiled a mass Muggle-killing in Kent, their very first victory against the Death Eaters. One blissful week later, they saved a young family – both parents were Muggle-born. Sturgis Podmore, who worked in the Department of International Magic Cooperation, found them safe passage to the continent. 

In October, they prevailed over an army of Dementors sent to ravage a Muggle town in Cardiff. James returned home after the battle, exhausted from casting Patronuses practically non-stop for a week, but elated at having effectively driven away and dispersed the Dementors. 

November passed in a whirlwind of successful skirmishes and brilliant battles. Their optimism and energy seemed to be boundless, as they intercepted Death Eater meetings, sabotaged plans, and ruined attacks. The morale of the Order was high; they joked and laughed at meetings, and everybody had a hand in match-making Alice Moody and Frank Longbottom, who were obviously smitten with each other, but taking forever to acknowledge it. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter spent that month’s full moon together, happily running rampage over Sirius’s inherited estate in their animal forms. 

Come December, rumours of the top-secret organisation working to oppose Voldemort had spread like dragon pox, and people began to have a small glimmer of hope. This meant, however, that the Order had put themselves firmly on Voldemort’s hit list. That Christmas, a jolly celebration at James’s home, marked the end of the triumphant victories of the Order. The honeymoon months were over, and Voldemort struck back brutally. 

The cadet branch of the Moody family, including Alice’s parents, was entirely wiped out, leaving Alice and Alastor the sole survivors. Frank’s father and younger sister were ambushed – Flora Longbottom was killed, although Frank Senior escaped narrowly, bitter and blaming himself for not having been able to shield his beloved daughter. 

After the attack on the Longbottoms, Lily panicked for her sister. James went with her to seek out Petunia and beg her to let the Order hide them, or at least offer them magical protection. Petunia’s beefy husband slammed the door shut in their faces. 

Sirius growled that he wouldn’t mind if Voldemort eliminated _his_ family, but there was no such luck, seeing that the name ‘Black’ was almost synonymous with ‘Death Eater’. Then he remembered his disinherited cousin Andromeda had a Muggle-born husband and paid them a visit, ostensibly to see his baby cousin Dora, but more likely to take measures to ensure their safety. 

Remus was the first of the Marauders to suffer a blow, following his public denunciation of Voldemort to a group of fellow werewolves. Voldemort must have got wind of it, because the next thing they knew, the Lupin’s house had been blown up, along with Remus’s parents inside. 

‘I’ll find something,’ said Remus, when James asked what he was going to do now. He looked very tired, and he had just been fired from the Butterbeer factory at which he had worked for the past few months. 

‘What,’ said Sirius, outraged, ‘because you spoke out against Voldemort?’ 

‘I’m still a werewolf,’ said Remus wearily. ‘People’s mindsets aren’t changed that easily.’ 

‘What’s the point of us fighting against the Dark side if all these prejudices aren’t going to change?’ demanded Sirius hotly. 

‘That doesn’t mean we should stop fighting,’ said James firmly, and that put an end to the discussion. Remus accepted James’s invitation to stop a while at Potter Manor; however, he refused to stay more than a week. 

James's own tragedy arrived in February, one completely unrelated to Voldemort, which took them all by surprise, because they had come to associate death and loss with the war alone. 

Elderly Mr and Mrs Potter both succumbed to Kneazle fever that winter – a malady that could be fatal at their age, and most unfortunately proved so. James buried both his parents on a surprisingly bright March afternoon. 

The sun shone most insensitively on the day of the funeral. James usually had no feud with sunshine, but today, he wished the clouds would gather. Pouring rain wouldn’t be a bad idea either. He felt numb, as wizards and witches offered him their condolences, as the people who had known his parents made speeches, praising their virtues, even as he himself spoke. After it was over, he could not remember what he had said. The only things that penetrated the foggy haze of his brain were his friends – Sirius, Remus and Peter, flanking his left, offering silent support, and Lily, her piercing green eyes telling him that she was there for him. 

‘We therefore commit their bodies to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life.’ 

He joined in the scattering of earth over his parents’ coffins, his mind hurtling back to ten years ago, when he had done the same for his sister. He was the last of his family left. The realisation made him feel horribly alone. 

Someone moved in James’s peripheral vision. Beside him, Sirius snapped into action as his mother’s coffin exploded, showering splintered wood all around. James turned to see a bolt of red light headed right at him – he felt as though he was moving underwater as he tried to duck – 

The spell hit an invisible wall and bounced off. James turned again. Lily’s wand was out, conjuring the Shield Charm that had protected him. 

Everything was happening too fast. In the same moment that he saw Lily warding off the Death Eater who had tried to curse him, James noticed another making a slashing motion at her unguarded back. What looked like purple flames seared across the space between them. 

James’s reflexes from Quidditch training kicked back in at once, and he dived at her. The curse missed, striking a headstone several metres away. It burst into flame in the face of another Death Eater. 

‘Get out of here!’ someone screamed. ‘Go, go, _go_!’ 

People were Disapparating who could; some had panicked and were hysterical, in no condition to. A little boy was cowering and wailing for his mother behind a grave. The Death Eaters had some poor elderly lady – James recognised a friend of his mother’s – writhing and flailing on the ground. 

‘Make sure everybody gets out of here safely!’ barked Sirius. 

Lily was already up and running, casting her powerful Shield Charm and deflecting curses as she dashed around the rubble that had been a stones in a graveyard just moments before, helping as many people as she could. James managed to Stun two Death Eaters at a go, snatch the crying boy out of the way of an errant curse, dodge a third Death Eater’s hex narrowly … the world was spinning at an alarming rate as he plunged into the fight. 

The sunlight continued to sparkle incongruously as the fight continued, illuminating the blood shed in patches over the demolished graveyard. 

~ * ~ 

Lily sat on the bottom step of the stairs in Potter Manor, rubbing her forehead distractedly. 

Her thoughts wouldn’t settle. They were racing through the events of the day, of the previous week, even the past month. 

James was now, like her, an orphan without family. Although she still had Petunia – her sister might pretend she didn’t exist now, but at least Petunia was still alive, which meant that there was always hope of reconciliation in the future. 

It was such a cruel trick of fate, to carry James’s parents away thus. When they’d worried all this while about Voldemort’s attacks, something as small and seemingly insignificant in the wake of the war as a disease could strike the final blow. 

It stung too, that even the funeral hadn’t been able to be conducted in peace. No, they had to be brutally reminded that the war was still a bitter reality when they’d ceased to care about it for a while. 

‘Foolhardiness,’ an Auror had called it. ‘You’ve lots to learn,’ he’d told James coldly, ‘if you can’t understand the dangers of holding anything out in the open – it’s an open invitation to be attacked!’ 

To which James had replied, ‘I refused to be so cowed that I can’t give my parents their due.’ 

‘It’s not safe,’ insisted the Auror. ‘We’ve got quite enough to do without rescuing those who court trouble.’ 

As if they’d done much good when they’d finally arrived: throwing only a few curses around and yelling at them to leave. There hadn’t been much to save, by then; Lily and the others had already done all they could. 

Lily didn’t know how long she’d been sitting by the time James came down. He took a seat beside her, his fingers fidgeting. Lily caught one of his hands and clasped it tight. 

‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. 

James nodded. He wasn’t looking at her, but at the ground, his Adam’s apple constricting as he swallowed. There was a deep gash running along his cheek, and his forehead was bruised – the aftermath from their battle earlier on. Lily held her finger to the scar and touched it lightly. James winced, and she quickly pulled her hand away. 

‘Does it still hurt?’ 

‘Like the devil,’ said James gruffly. He finally raised his head and ran his eyes over her. ‘You don’t look so fresh yourself.’ 

Lily gingerly pressed her finger against her own cut, a jagged line on her chin that had needed to be mended by Dorcas Meadowes, who was training as a Healer. ‘It’s not so bad.’ 

James looked away again. There was silence for a while, and then he spoke, bitterly, ‘What an irony. We worried so much about Voldemort, but in the end something like a disease gets to us instead.’ 

‘I know. My mum – my dad, it was so sudden … and it wasn’t even an attack. Just something stupid.’ 

James looked at her curiously. ‘It wasn’t?’ 

Lily shook her head. ‘Didn’t you know? There was a car crash – I survived, but Mum … well, she didn’t have magic, did she? It happened all too fast for me to do anything. And Dad had a heart attack. Then his heart gave out.’ 

‘You never told me. We always assumed it had been something to do with Voldemort … and your sister seemed so angry with magic …’ 

‘No. Petunia was so angry that magic had saved me and not Mum. She never liked it much in the first place … I think that was the last straw for her.’ 

‘Oh. I didn’t know that.’ 

‘It doesn’t matter. It’s over now.’ 

James free arm found its way around her shoulders, drawing her to him. Lily sensed however that it was more for his own comfort than hers. She wrapped her arms around him, hoping to give him the warmth of her love. 

‘And now this attack – couldn’t they have left the funeral alone, damn it? He takes enough from people, yet he can’t let us be at peace with our dead! Why?’ 

Lily felt wet drops moisten her hair. She hugged James tighter. 

‘I wanted to – I wanted to say goodbye, properly … stupid, I know, I was with them when they … well, we had time before, and yet …’ 

‘I know,’ Lily whispered. ‘I know what you mean.’ 

Was it better to have had time to say goodbye? Lily had never had that liberty. One moment her parents had been alive, the next they were gone before she could open her eyes. 

‘It’s just like Harriet all over again,’ said James brokenly. ‘It – she – I …’ He ran his hand roughly over his eyes, before launching into his tale. 

Harriet Potter had been Andrew and Patricia Potter’s first child, fifteen years James’s senior. She had gone to Hogwarts and been Sorted into Gryffindor like the rest of her family. However, she had got involved with Eberus Prince – a Slytherin, but left him after an argument over the use of the Dark Arts. After leaving Hogwarts, she had met and fallen in love with a Muggle, and they were married soon after. Furious when he learnt the news, her ex-boyfriend came after her. Harriet had returned home to find her husband dead, and Eberus Prince lying in wait for her. He bound her to him using Dark Magic, and disappeared with her. They had found her a week later, weak and broken, and brought her home. 

‘I could hear her screaming sometimes; I’d wake up in the middle of the night and hear it … Mum and Dad wouldn’t let me near her room, but I snuck in to see her one night. She was – it was just horrible.’ 

Harriet had never recovered; she had died within a week, slowly and torturously. 

‘I’m sorry,’ said Lily. She couldn’t help but wonder if this horrible tragedy that had befallen the Potter family had ignited James’s passion against everything that stood for the Dark Arts … She thought of James’s sister Harriet, wasting away before his eyes, a victim to the Dark Arts. And now, his parents falling victims to a magical disease. Her heart ached. Wasn’t there enough tragedy in the world without Voldemort adding to it? 

James was crying freely now, his face buried against her hair. Lily fought to blink back her own. She had to be strong for him now, to be the one to give him strength and courage. 

‘It’s hard,’ she told him. ‘It’s so hard to say good-bye.’ 

She held on to him for a long time, until he finally regained his composure. In that time, she couldn’t help shedding her own tears too, grieving for James. 

‘The worst thing about the war,’ said James, his voice sounding hollow, ‘is that there won’t be time to grieve. Tomorrow, we’ve got to go on, like the loss doesn’t exist. I don’t see how I can … but I know I’ve got to. You can’t take leave from a war to mourn.’ 

‘There’s tonight,’ Lily reminded him. ‘There’s still time, to pull yourself together again.’ 

James nodded mutely. He detached himself from her and held her shoulders at arm’s length, studying her again. Reaching out, he brushed back a lock of her hair. 

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘For being with me …’ 

‘How could I not?’ 

He leaned forward and kissed her gently. ‘Stay here tonight,’ he pleaded softly. ‘Stay with me.’ 

There wasn’t any need for him to ask. In a world that people could leave at any time, where there were so few guarantees, James had been her rock for so long already. It was time her turn to be his. 

She stayed. 


	4. 04 Gearing for Battle

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER FOUR:** **Gearing for Battle**

_April to May, 1978_

The _Avada Kedavra_ Shield Charm – or Death Shield, as Liz Ollivander often called it – was proving to be a lot trickier than Lily could have imagined. 

Firstly, _Avada Kedavra_ drew strength from so many horrible emotions that even if they found a way to block all the conventional ones (hatred, vengeance, disgust), which they hadn’t, there were other elements that could be drawn on to make the killing curse still work. Liz theorised that the shield had to encompass a counter for every element that the killing curse could possibly use. Lily thought the answer should be more direct, and less complicated, but it was a hunch with no logical or theoretical backing. Anyway, she had no idea exactly what that direct answer was. 

Today, Lily was taking a break from _Avada Kedavra_ to study the existing Shield Charm instead, hoping that it might provide a clue to the Death Shield they were trying to create. If she could manipulate the existing Shield Charm, it would be much easier than building a spell from scratch. Its principles were quite basic: it acted like a mirror, reflecting most spells and curses thrown at it. This accounted for the silvery nature of the spell web. However, there had to be a reason why the killing curse was the one curse that the Shield Charm could not block. 

Or was it? 

Lily felt that the logical reason why the Shield Charm worked against most spells and curses was because all of them were elemental spells – that is, they required focused magic, rather than human emotion. It was a worthwhile theory to test. 

‘Liz?’ 

‘Yeah?’ Liz raised her head from the dictionary that she was currently buried in. They had already determined that since the killing curse was an emotional spell, the Death Shield would therefore have to be one as well, if it was to work successfully. It was finding which emotion that was difficult. So Liz had started a list of all the emotions she had thought of so far that might possibly be used to cast _Avada Kedavra,_ and next to each one, she tried to find an opposing emotion that could be used in conjuring the Death Shield. It involved a great deal of the dictionary. 

‘Can I test something? Put up a Shield Charm, will you?’ 

‘The Charm itself? Or the web?’ 

‘The Charm itself. I’m going to cast a spell to try to get past it.’ 

‘All right. I hope it’s not a curse, though. _Protego!_ ’ 

‘ _Expecto Patronum_!’ said Lily loudly. The Patronus was the perfect charm for her experiment: it satisfied to requirement of being an emotional charm, and being a manifestation of joy, even if it breached Liz’s Shield Charm, it wouldn’t hurt her. 

The silver tigress bounded out of Lily’s wand and capered right through Liz’s Shield Charm. It frisked a few times around Liz before dissolving. 

‘Well,’ said Liz, lowering her wand. ‘I don’t think that’s been tried before. As far as I know, no Dementor ever cast a Shield Charm against a Patronus.’ 

Lily felt the glimmers of excitement surface within her. 

‘It worked – I was right! Liz, the Shield Charm _doesn’t_ work because it doesn’t have the right elements in it. But if we can put the right ones _in_ …’ 

Liz was quick to catch on. In the blink of an eye, she had raised the shimmering silver barrier that was behind the chant ‘ _Protego_ ’. Lily prodded it thoughtfully with her wand. 

‘We need to infuse the wall with a human element – or a whole bunch of them,’ she muttered. She studied the smooth planes of the wall. It was a stark contrast to some of the other spells that she had done, where the webs criss-crossed to form a strong, sturdy pattern. It made sense, since the charm was meant to reflect unwanted spells – and an interlocked light path could not reflect. 

‘But how?’ said Liz, frowning. ‘The paths are built up too tightly. We need something woven with a bit of space if we want to add anything.’ 

Lily rubbed her forehead, not willing to give up. There had to be a way. They just hadn’t found it yet. 

Three hours and not much significant progress later, they were interrupted by James’s head in the fire. 

‘Liz? Is Lily there?’ 

‘I’m here, James.’ Lily scrambled to the hearth, feeling the panic rise automatically. ‘Is anything wrong? Are you OK?’ 

‘No, no – don’t worry, everything’s fine; I just dropped by your place and you weren’t back yet, and it’s late, and I had to … aren’t you finished, yet?’ 

‘Blimey,’ exclaimed Liz. ‘It’s past midnight, Lily!’ 

She hadn’t noticed the time either; that single breakthrough in her thoughts had caused her to be completely engrossed in her work until now. James shook his head in a mock-despairing manner. 

‘And here I thought you were done with late-night work after Hogwarts.’ 

‘Oh, shut it.’ 

‘We’d better call it a night, though,’ suggested Liz. ‘Get some rest; we’ll continue tomorrow evening.’ 

‘All right.’ 

‘OK if I come by, then?’ said James. He met Lily’s eyes, and she could tell by his expression that he had a pressing matter to discuss with her. 

‘OK,’ she said, and James nodded. There was a soft crackle, and his head disappeared from the fire. 

Ten minutes later, having packed up her work and said good night to Liz, she met James just outside the Ollivander home. He greeted her with a soft kiss and they Apparated to a deserted little alleyway in Manchester, a short distance from the flat Lily was renting. He took her hand as they started off towards her flat, walking in the cool spring night air. For a while, neither spoke. James was so uncharacteristically quiet that Lily could sense that whatever it was he needed to tell her, it wasn’t going to be easy for him. 

Finally, he said, ‘I have to leave.’ 

‘Leave?’ 

‘On … business.’ Lily understood that to be Order work. ‘To … well, I’m not sure exactly where; Moody wouldn’t say yet. But I’m going to be away.’ 

He’d be leaving the country – she could imagine too well the purpose: tracking Death Eaters, thwarting Voldemort’s forces … meeting danger … risking his life … A lump worked its way up her throat at the very thought. _Don’t go_ , she wanted to say – but she couldn’t, because she knew better than anyone that this was a war none of them could opt out of. And if their situations were reversed … If given the chance, she would have gone to do her part as well. 

_I’ll go, too_ , she thought next, but this was an impossibility: the Order needed her where she was, continuing the work she had just put down barely half an hour ago. James’s role was to leave, to fight; hers was to stay, to create. 

Lily watched their shadows lengthen and recede as they walked between the Muggle street lamps lining the pavement. Their shadowy outlines grew and faded for three cycles before she managed to choke out, ‘When?’ 

James’s voice was so soft, she thought she’d imagined it. ‘Tomorrow.’ 

‘Tomorrow?’ she repeated in dismay, hoping she’d heard wrong. 

‘Morning,’ he clarified. ‘That’s why I – I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to you first.’ 

‘But that’s so soon … why didn’t you tell me earlier, James?’ 

‘I didn’t know myself; Moody only told Sirius and me earlier today.’ 

‘You should have …’ Lily let her voice trail off, as she realised that James had probably tried to tell her as soon as he could … and even if he had, it wouldn’t have made much difference. There would still be precious little time for them to spend together before he left. Barely a night. 

They arrived at her dingy flat, and Lily suddenly clung to James’s hand, not wanting to let go. If they had only tonight left before he had to go, then she didn’t want him to leave her now. If he was going tomorrow morning, she wanted something to hold on to while he was away; a memory she could take comfort in when she missed him. 

‘Stay the night?’ she breathed into his ear. 

‘OK,’ he said, closing his fingers tightly around hers. 

~ * ~ 

James awoke to the dawn’s first rays, peeking through the gaps in Lily’s blinds to cast lines of warm sunlight across his bleary eyes. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, fumbling around for his glasses. 

His searching arm brushed over Lily, curled up against him, fast asleep. James withdrew his hand and propped himself up, watching her breathe lightly in slumber. Her vivid hair, lit by the morning’s rays such that it shone red-gold, was wild and tangled. James smoothed several locks away from her face, memorising her features as he gazed at her. 

He would have to go soon; he had no idea how long he’d be away – ‘As long as we need to complete our mission,’ Moody had said. That could be any time from a week to a month … or longer. However long it took, he would bring with him the image of Lily sleeping peacefully by his side, and the memory of her soft lips and skin, pressed against him. 

As though by instinct, he leaned forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. Lily stirred at the contact, eyes scrunching up slightly before blinking open. 

‘James?’ she murmured. 

‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’ 

She yawned and extracted a hand from under the blankets to cover her open mouth. ‘Are you leaving?’ 

He nodded regretfully. ‘I have to.’ 

‘You … you’ll come back.’ She said it as a statement, but with a hint of a question – that twinge of uncertainty, of fear, because he was about to walk into danger, and no-one could promise that they’d return from an Order mission unscathed. 

‘I’ll do my best,’ he promised, which was the most he could do. Lily accepted this, and raised her lips to his. 

‘Stay safe,’ he said, when they broke apart, realising as the words left his mouth that there was no guarantee that he’d have a girlfriend to return to either. In fact, either of them could run into trouble at any time, whether or not he was going away. But when he wasn’t within Apparating distance, he’d be helpless, should anything happen to Lily, and vice versa. 

‘You should go,’ Lily said, after she’d promised to take care. James nodded, knowing that she was right. The more he delayed leaving, the harder it would be. As it was, he already wanted not to move from his position at her side. 

‘Go,’ she urged again, although her fingers, clinging to his hand tightly, belied her words. James lifted her hand to his lips. 

‘I love you. I’ll see you when I get back.’ 

The words, _if I get back_ , hung in the silence between them. 

_I will come home_ , thought James viciously. 

‘And I’ll be waiting for you.’ Lily smiled at him. ‘I love you, too. I’ll miss you. Now, go, before Moody has your head!’ 

Reluctantly, James got out of bed and pulled his robes, which were strewn across the ground, over his head. With a final, mouthed ‘good-bye’, he took a step forward and Disapparated quietly. 

James didn’t stay long at home; these days, Potter Manor felt far too huge and empty when he was alone. He simply packed the few things he thought he’d need: his Invisibility Cloak, his side of the two-way mirror (the other resided with Sirius), a travelling cloak. When he’d squeezed it into a knapsack, he declined the breakfast that his house-elf offered, forced himself to stop thinking about Lily, and Apparated to Sirius’s place. 

A mixture of excitement and nervousness not unlike pre-Quidditch match nerves washed over him as he arrived in Sirius’s hallway. James focused his mind on the mission ahead – they’d be tracking Death Eater movement outside the country, trying their best to foil Voldemort’s latest foreign plans. James suspected that this was going to involve giants somehow, although Moody hadn’t briefed them on the specifics yet. This was the kind of adventure he would typically be eager for. In fact, if he hadn’t Lily to come back to, he would probably be whole-heartedly ready to run off to fight, without a care. There was nothing else for him to miss; home was lonely now, with his parents gone and his home filled with the ghostly memories of a happier past and his carefree childhood. He certainly wouldn’t bemoan having to be away from home. 

Neither would Sirius, James supposed. If there was anyone with a keener sense of adventure, it would be Sirius. And unlike James, Sirius hadn’t a girlfriend – he wouldn’t be at all fussed about danger or the risk of getting killed. 

It was strange, therefore, how Sirius wasn’t already bounding around the house, up and ready to go. ‘Sirius?’ James called out, but there was no answer. ‘Are you here?’ He waited a few moments more, knocking on Sirius’s bedroom door in case his best friend was still asleep, but no response followed, so James showed himself out the front door. It locked automatically as he closed it, securing the house against unauthorised intruders. 

He was making his way back down the front path, deciding that Sirius must already have left, when he noted the unusual noises that seemed to be originating from a small shed round the side of the house. Thinking he’d probably just pinpointed Sirius’s location, he turned around and headed for the shed, with his hand on his wand – just in case. 

From what James could see through the smudged glass of the shed window, the noise turned out to be from some machine that Sirius was tinkering with, bending over it such that James couldn’t be sure what it actually was. Curious, he opened the door, which creaked and startled Sirius. 

‘Godric’s Grindylows, James, didn’t you ever hear of _knocking_?’ 

‘You obviously haven’t been heeding Moody’s advice of “ _constant vigilance_ ”, since you haven’t hexed me for it,’ observed James. 

‘Wise-arse.’ 

‘What are you up to?’ But the answer to his question was evident as he set eyes on the Muggle machine that Sirius had been working on. 

It was an enormous motorcycle: its polished black-and-silver handlebars gleamed in the dim light of the shed, meeting in the centre above the gigantic front wheel to proudly brandish two spotlight-style lamps fixed side by side; the body was smooth and black, curving gently into a wide, comfortable seat; beneath the seat was the rear wheel, half-obscured by two shiny exhaust pipes leading to the convoluted engine residing on the underbelly of the machine. The whole contraption balanced almost precariously on its two wheels and a single slim stand that James marvelled for its ability to support the motorbike’s hefty weight. 

‘Amazing, isn’t she?’ said Sirius, grinning broadly. 

‘Where did you _get_ this thing?’ 

‘I was luckier than a Niffler in a gold mine. She’d brought the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts department down on her – old Perkins was trying to sort it out. Some idiot put a Hurling Hex on her – Muggles wouldn’t go within ten feet, they all thought she was haunted after five riders got thrown – four of _them_ landed in hospital, apparently, and the last one _died_. Anyway, I helped take off the Hurling Hex, so Perkins let me have her since he hadn’t any idea what to do with her; couldn’t wheel a lovely lady like this into the Ministry, after all! He said Arthur Weasley usually takes care of this stuff, but Weasley wasn’t at work at the moment because his wife had a crisis – Gideon and Fabian’s sister, you know? She’s pregnant now, it seems – their sixth, can you imagine? Either way, it works out for me!’ 

Sirius ran his hands lovingly over the motorbike as he spoke, stroking the leathery seat fondly. James chuckled inwardly for a brief moment, thinking that all the girls who had been eyeing Sirius during their school days would have been desperately jealous of this Muggle bike, if they were to see him now. 

‘I’ve been tinkering about with her whenever I had time,’ he said happily. ‘Took the engine apart and fiddled around … it works like a charm now. It started with some electric transmission in the ignition – blimey, you should have seen the sparks when I took that out – but I managed to get her to go using _Alohomora_ – no Muggle bike-thief’s ever going to get his hands on _her_. 

‘She runs a whole lot better with magic too – nought to a hundred and twenty in less than ten seconds; not even the Nimbus can beat that! An Equalising Charm got rid of the sputtering at slow cruising speeds – she goes so smooth at any speed now. And she already had a good ground clearance with the low, lean angles. Would you believe you can actually apply those tone and pitch spells for tuning magical instruments to a bike? But seriously, they did wonders – with a “ _Sonorous_ ”, too, you should hear the new, improved engine growl. And then, she had an analogue tachometer already, so I didn’t have to go browse about in some Muggle shop to buy one.’ 

James barely understood a word of this; he hadn’t continued with Muggle Studies after taking the O.W.L., and even if he had, he doubted that detailed vehicle terminology was in the syllabus. That Sirius could rattle it all off was remarkable – but then, Sirius _would_ have done serious research if he’d been truly interested in Muggle vehicles (which he evidently was). 

‘… a lot of the charms they use on brooms apply too, like the Cushioning Charm: makes the seat much easier on the bum – not that it was that bad in the first place – and I stripped down a Bluebottle for Suspension Enchantments – there won’t be any shocks she can’t resist now, I’ll bet!’ Sirius finished with a broad grin and a gleam in his eye. ‘I’d say she’s ready for the journey!’ 

‘You’re bringing her – it?’ James said incredulously. 

‘Why not?’ Sirius Summoned a small rucksack and a thick Muggle jacket from the corner of the room. He shrugged on the jacket and hitched the sack onto his back. ‘You all packed?’ 

‘Yeah …’ 

‘Let’s go, then.’ Sirius fiddled with a cap near the back of the bike, and then wheeled it out of the shed. James realised with a thrill of anticipation – the same old excitement he’d used to feel in school at the idea of a new, adventurous caper – that Sirius intended them to ride the motorbike to meet Moody. 

Sure enough, Sirius motioned to the bike grandly. ‘Get on behind.’ He swung his leg across and indicated that James do the same. With a swift, practiced kick to the stand and a sweep of his wand, the motorbike revved into action. 

The roaring of the engine was almost deafening. The motorbike accelerated down the path, heading straight towards the Muggle village not too far away. It covered the distance as quick as a Snidget. Once there, Sirius’s driving became more erratic as he swerved through the paved streets: he made a sharp left turn, and then veered to the right almost immediately after, heading down an alleyway. James sucked in a breath as they swung sharply – but that was nothing compared to what Sirius was now doing: charging full speed at a brick wall at the end of the alley … Adrenaline was pumping in James’s veins; it was almost like a Quidditch match, dodging and twisting at top speed, heading straight for obstructions only to veer off at the last minute (which he had no doubt would happen – he trusted Sirius not to smash them both into smithereens). Damn, it had been too long since he’d last had a good heart-racing flight on his Nimbus … 

As he’d expected, Sirius did dodge the wall – but how he did it was most unanticipated. With a great jerk, the front wheel pulled right off the road and lifted into the air; instead of returning to the ground with a thump, it climbed higher – and the back wheel _followed_. James nearly fell off in shock – the motorcycle was in the air, sailing through the clouds, the wind whipping past. He couldn’t help but let out a gasp of surprised delight. Sirius heard and craned his head back, laughing. 

‘Oh, sorry,’ he said wickedly. ‘Did I forget to mention that it flies?’ 

 

**_A/N_** _: Much thanks to my friend **Yantz** , who briefly introduced me to motorcycles, pointed me to valuable resources that helped me in the description of Sirius’s motorbike, and vetted the initial motorbike description! For anyone who is interested, I gave Sirius a Triumph Rocket III (<http://www.triumph.co.uk/uk/5742.aspx>)._


	5. 05 The Casualties of War

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER FIVE:** **The Casualties of War**

_Summer and autumn, 1978_

What was intended to be a fortnight-long sojourn in the Alps lengthened into a month when the Lestrange brothers, whom James, Sirius and Moody were tracking, managed to evade them and slip away into the mountains. That month extended into the next, as they tracked down the Lestranges again – right into a giants’ camp. 

‘Looks like we’ve traced Voldemort’s giant shipment,’ said Sirius, when they’d high-tailed it out of the mountain valley before they could be spotted and attacked. 

‘We’ll be putting a stop to it if we can,’ growled Moody, and the next week was spent spying and eavesdropping, in order to find out how Voldemort intended to use the giants. James devised the plan which they then carried out: ambushing the Death Eaters at Calais, where they intended to transport the giants across the English Channel. It was a fight they entered outnumbered – the Lestranges arrived with a female counterpart and two giants in tow – but James, Sirius and Moody had the element of surprise. Sirius struck the first, unexpected blow, a Conjunctivitus Curse aimed directly at one giant’s eye. The frenzy the giant had gone into, howling and thrashing, nearly crushed Rabastan Lestrange, and the other giant took a swing at Rodolphus Lestrange, possibly thinking that the Death Eaters had turned against them. 

The chaos produced was enough to secure a winning chance. The Lestrange brothers fled, but their female companion, who turned out to be Sirius’s cousin Bellatrix, leapt into a duel with Sirius, as James and Moody subdued the giants. It took a while for Bellatrix to realise that she was alone, but when she did, she let out a cry of fury. Sirius had to dive aside to avoid her snarled ‘ _Crucio_!’ She, too, ran for it then, firing curses at them from behind her back. 

They waited a long, boring week. James wrote countless letters to Lily, all of which he had to burn because Moody was adamant that they leave no trails for the Death Eaters to locate and assail them. At the end of that week, the second shipment of giants attempted to get past, and once again, they foiled it. However, as before, the Lestranges all escaped. 

When Moody insisted that they continue to stay in case the Death Eaters tried again, James began to despair of ever getting back home. He wondered what was going on back in England. The news from home had been sparse and sporadic, arriving infrequently with Fawkes the phoenix – the only form of communication that Moody deemed safely untraceable. 

Through Fawkes, Dumbledore assured James that Lily was well, that she and Liz Ollivander had created a prototype spell for the special Shield Charm they had been attempting to develop, which had managed to slow Frank Longbottom’s testing _Avada Kedavra_ marginally, but had ultimately failed to actually deflect the killing curse. 

‘It’s a baby step,’ said Moody approvingly. 

James imagined Lily with her face fixed in serious concentration, her wand hovering over a delicate spell web. He carried the image with him, a talisman, along with his other pictures of her in his mind’s eye: Lily sleeping peacefully, Lily holding up her face to be kissed, Lily smiling at him as though he was her ray of light, when it was really the other way round. 

It was no surprise, then, that after arresting five more shipments, having slain two giants and sent three other Death Eaters (sadly, the Lestranges continued to evade capture) home in the custody of Aurors, when Moody finally pronounced their vigil over the giant shipment point complete, James’s first thought was of the girl he could hardly wait to see again. 

He had already been away for nearly four months. 

~ * ~ 

September meant the start of the school year. Unfortunately, it also happened to coincide with a flurry of Death Eater activity throughout the country, which took a toll on the Order, whose members were beginning to feel the strain of being short-handed. 

James, Sirius and Moody were away, fighting Death Eaters and giants to prevent them from stampeding through Britain. Dumbledore and the other members of the Hogwarts staff had to return to the school to attend to work. The other Order members were balancing their day jobs with Order business. Typically, Death Eaters tended to attack outside office hours – night, when the Dark Mark showed up best in the black sky, was their preferred time of activity. This meant sleepless nights and tired days for the Order, as they frantically rushed about trying to detonate figurative Death Eater bombs – always falling a step behind. It was a race to save lives, before the Death Eaters could take them. 

Lily had been exempt from participating in raids earlier on, being busy with the Death Shield, but the sudden surge in attacks prompted Gideon Prewett to call her through the fire at Liz’s place one evening. 

‘Lily – can you come? An attack, in Edinburgh; if we hurry, maybe …’ 

Of course, she agreed immediately. Gideon told her the address and disappeared from the fire. Lily hurriedly left a note for Liz, who wasn’t home yet, before dashing outside to Disapparate. 

The screams she heard upon arrival at the scene told her that she was too late. The Prewett twins were already there, charging through the banged-down front door, sprinting towards the source of the cries. She dashed after them, down the hallway and up the stairs of the two-storey home, into a room where a scene from hell was playing out before her stricken eyes. 

A young witch, who looked barely older than Lily herself, was screaming as an older man held a baby boy’s neck in his hands, tightening his grip over the infant’s throat. Lily apprehended with a sickening glance that there was a Death Eater lazily controlling the man’s actions … _Imperius_ , she thought desperately. The baby was wailing, squalling as his face turned blue from lack of oxygen. His mother screamed for the Death Eaters to stop, to have mercy, but her hands were bound by an invisible spell from another Death Eater. 

Fabian Prewett launched into action, going for the Death Eater wielding the Imperius Curse. The other Death Eater immediately released the young mother to attack, but Gideon tripped him up with a quick counter-offensive. Lily and the mother dashed to the Imperius-ed man, as the Prewetts engaged the Death Eaters in battle. The moment the spell was lifted, the man’s eyes widened in horror and his hands shook so hard that he dropped the baby – the mother dived for her son and caught him in her arms. For a split second, Lily imagined that everything would be all right now; the baby had stopped bawling, safe in his mother’s embrace. Then, a cry of anguish ripped out of the young mother’s throat and Lily realised that it was already too late. She rushed over to the witch and instinctively put an arm around her heaving shoulders, but the witch jerked away violently, clasping her son’s blue-tinged, lifeless body to her breast with the steel grip of a Grindylow. 

Throughout all this, the man who had been held under Imperius sank to his knees and stared disbelievingly at his hands. When the errant bolt of green light, doubtlessly meant for one of the Prewett twins, shot from the wand of one of the Death Eaters and hit the man squarely in the chest, he simply keeled over, eyes still large and shocked. 

‘ _John_!’ The witch let out a strangled cry and ran to her husband’s side. There was a loud cackle from one of the Death Eaters. Something seemed to snap inside the young witch, and, dropping her son’s body, she sprung at the Death Eater like a woman possessed, clawing and scratching and spitting in fury. 

‘No!’ Lily grabbed at the back of the witch’s robes, certain that the Death Eater would kill her on the spot. 

‘I told you, Marcee,’ snarled the Death Eater. ‘“You’ll rue the day you married him” – remember?’ He slammed her backwards into Lily with a flick of his wand, knocking the breath out of the both of them. ‘Your turn – _Ava_ –’ 

‘ _Stupefy_!’ yelled Lily, at the same time as Gideon. The Death Eater slumped forward, unable to finish his curse. His counterpart’s arms snapped rigidly together and fell back, stiff as a board as Fabian’s Body Bind hit target. 

The witch – Marcee – dissolved into hysterical sobs, screaming, ‘Just kill me, just kill me …’ 

‘Bastards,’ said Gideon angrily, kicking at the unconscious Death Eater. 

Lily found she was trembling so hard that she could barely hold her wand straight. Marcee’s screaming rang in her ears, a tortured cry that reminded Lily vividly of the only other time she had witnessed first-hand the cruelty that people could sink to. Then, she had learnt how merciless their side could be; as she had watched the Aurors enclose a burning row of houses with a Containment Charm, condemning those inside – Death Eaters and Muggles alike – to a slow, torturous death. Now, she had just been shown live testimony of the Death Eaters’ barbarity: forcing a hapless father to strangle his own son as his wife watched on in horror; _laughing_ as a stray curse – or was it intentional? – hit the husband; taunting the poor girl who was now reduced to a sobbing heap on the ground. 

‘Come on, love,’ Gideon said to Marcee, patting her back gently. ‘It’s over now. You’re safe with us. Shh, now …’ 

Marcee calmed down as Gideon stroked her hair comfortingly. Her eyes, however, had a distinctly haunted look. With a chill, Lily wondered if she would always have that look in her eyes from now on; as though the terror she had witnessed would forever be imprinted on her face. Her heart filled with empathy, Lily took one of Marcee’s cold, shaking hands and held it tight. Marcee in turn squeezed back so hard, so desperately, that Lily felt as though the squeeze was being transferred directly to her heart. 

‘Take her to Emmeline’s,’ directed Fabian. ‘She has a spare room, and she’ll know what to do for the girl. I’ll stay to sort out these two.’ He nudged the Body-Bound Death Eater with an unsympathetic toe. 

Marcee was in no condition to Apparate, so Gideon took her Side-Along, and Lily followed. Emmeline Vance rose to the occasion magnificently when the three of them arrived on her doorstep, bundling Marcee into a large, soft armchair and sending a house-elf for hot chocolate. 

‘What’s your name, then?’ asked Emmeline, once Marcee had settled into the warm chair and sipped half her cup of cocoa away. 

‘Marcia Davenport,’ was the whispered reply, in a voice hoarse from screaming and thick with tears. 

Emmeline straightened and stared at the girl in amazement. Lily watched her expression switch from business-like sympathy to recognition, and then to genuine sorrow. 

‘Marcee,’ she said softly. ‘Is it you?’ 

Later, after Emmeline had put Marcee to bed, Fabian returned to tell them that the Death Eaters had been handed over to the Aurors, and to thank them all for their help. Emmeline collapsed into Fabian’s arms when he arrived, and Lily and Gideon prudently left them together. As she backed out of the room, she heard Emmeline say, ‘Little Marcee Fawcett, Fabian – I didn’t recognise her when she came in, she looked so … I heard she’d married a Muggle, do you think that’s why …’ 

Gideon shut the door tight then, closing off the rest of Emmeline’s words. But Lily had overhead enough to feel sickened. Marcia Davenport had once been a girl like her – probably several years ahead of her at Hogwarts, in a different house. Emmeline seemed to have recalled her as a happier girl, with less cares. Now … 

She’d watched her husband and child die, in front of her eyes. She’d lost everything in the short space of an evening. The more Lily thought about it, the more heart-sore she felt. 

‘Are you all right, Lily?’ Gideon’s voice, sounding a world away, brought her back to the present. She arranged her features into what she hoped was a neutral look. 

‘I’m fine. Just tired.’ 

‘I know it was your first raid … I mean, it’s hard to deal with, I know …’ 

‘I’m OK, Gideon.’ 

He looked at her uncertainly. ‘Do you want me to see you home?’ 

‘No. Really – I’ll be fine. Go home and get some rest; you must be tired, too.’ 

‘All right, then. You too, Lily. Take care.’ 

Gideon was watching, so she spun on the spot, focused her mind on going home, and Disapparated. However, when the tight compression of her body relaxed with the loud crack that always accompanied her Apparitions, and she had a chance to take in her surroundings, Lily was thankful that she hadn’t Splinched – because she had landed miles away from her flat in Manchester. 

It didn’t take long for her to comprehend the situation. Concentrating on home as her destination, her subconscious had targeted Potter Manor – James’s home. 

_James_. Could he possibly be home? Lily felt her heartbeat quicken; suddenly she wanted nothing more than to see him, and to fold herself into his arms as though he could wash away the sadistic brutality she had just observed. Had her intuition brought her here to seek solace? 

Her heart in her mouth, she rang the doorbell. 

James’s house-elf answered the door. ‘Master is telling Kibby to keep out strangers, but you is Master’s Miss,’ she squeaked. She then pulled one of her long, bat-like ears down and twisted it nervously and she peered at Lily with enormous tennis-ball eyes. ‘Kibby is needing to ask Miss what Miss is giving Kibby for a present last year.’ Evidently James had trained her properly in preparation for a Polyjuiced visitor. 

‘A cup. With roses on it,’ Lily added for good measure. She’d wanted to give Kibby a scarf, but James had said that house-elves got upset if you tried to give them any form of garment. 

Kibby’s eyes grew round with delight. ‘Right, Miss! You is coming in, and Kibby is making you a cup of tea right away!’ 

‘There isn’t any need, Kibby,’ said Lily hurriedly as she stepped through the door that the house-elf held open for her. ‘I was just looking for James…’ 

‘Master is not in, Miss! He is gone away for many days!’ 

Although she knew that she should have been expecting this, Lily couldn’t keep a sense of disappointment from settling over her. She must have unconsciously hoped for a lucky chance that he might be back now. 

‘He’s not here?’ she clarified. 

Kibby shook her head vigorously. ‘Not for many days, Miss.’ 

‘Can … can I come in anyway?’ ‘Yes, Miss. Kibby will make Miss a drink!’ 

‘I don’t really …’ Lily was about to decline the offer – she wasn’t looking for a hot brew – but she changed her mind on seeing Kibby’s eager face. ‘All right. Thank you, Kibby.’ 

With an ear-splitting beam, Kibby ushered Lily inside and into a warm rocking chair, presenting a steaming cup of tea at the snap of her long fingers. Then, having discharged her duty, Kibby disappeared and left Lily to her own devices. 

Again, instinct seemed to be guiding Lily, as she wandered upstairs with her cup of tea. She passed several portraits on the walls, whose occupants were either snoozing or surveying her with a bleary eye. 

The first room she approached was James’s parents’ old one. Lily didn’t enter, but stood outside for a while, remembering James’s mother and father. Patricia Potter, whom she had first met at a blazing inferno – the same event that had opened her eyes to the ruthless nature of war. The recollection saddened her more, so she tried to visualise Andrew Potter instead: James’s kindly, grey-haired father, who had favoured her with a warm, welcoming smile the first time James had brought her home … after Petunia had deserted her. 

It was no use … she couldn’t fix on a memory to assuage her current grief. She moved on down the hallway and arrived at a second door, one just opposite James’s room, that she had never entered. In fact, she had never even seen the door open. 

Would James mind if she looked inside? Most likely not … Lily raised a tentative hand to the doorknob and turned it slowly. The door creaked open, its hinges sounding as though they hadn’t been used in ages. She stepped across the threshold and lit the room with her wand. 

It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the light. When her vision had adapted, she let out a little gasp of surprise. 

This was indisputably a girl’s room: a dresser and vanity table were lined up against the wall, the windows were hidden behind faded pink curtains, a row of old plush toys that no boy would ever have been caught dead with resided on a shelf, and the queen-sized bed was neatly made with a flowery duvet. 

It was also a room that looked as if it hadn’t been inhabited for years. Although the floor and furniture were dust-free (Kibby must have been cleaning), everything had an antiquated look – as though time had stopped here many years ago. The books stacked by the small table next to the bed had yellowing covers and outdated titles. Even the image in a photograph, placed face-up by the books, seemed to have despaired of having an audience, as the people in it were unmoving except for a blink every few seconds. 

Lily caught the picture in her hand and held it up to the light. As though sensing her presence, the three people in the photo started to move, waving their arms – slowly, at first, in a jerky, unpractised manner, then gradually more normally. Lily studied the little beaming figures: a couple in their twenties, with a young boy who couldn’t be more than eight years old. His messy, jet-black hair stood up at the back of his head, despite repeated smoothing by the woman behind him. 

It was James – an eight-year-old James, laughing from a faded old picture. But the woman with the same warm, hazel eyes, patting his head with obvious love, looked too young to be his mother … she had to be his sister. Harriet. And the solicitous-looking young man by her side must be her husband. 

A Muggle whom a Dark wizard had hunted down and killed. 

There was a striking parallel to Marcia Davenport’s case. The images Lily had just witnessed not two hours ago surfaced to the forefront of her mind, and there was no blocking them out now: the blue, choking face of the Davenport baby; the father’s expression of absolute horror; Marcia’s look of defeat and surrender. Lily imagined Harriet’s photographic features were slowly blending into Marcee’s; this could have been a snapshot of the Davenports, a happy moment made timeless in a small square frame, before their lives were torn asunder … 

Lily’s knees wobbled, and she stumbled backwards to the bed. A drop of water splattered onto the photograph; all three people scurried to the edge to avoid it. Lily wondered if the roof were leaking – then she noted numbly that her cheeks were wet. 

~ * ~ 

James arrived home, exhausted from the intercontinental Apparition. He hadn’t actually wanted to return to the large, empty house – Sirius had offered to let James kip at his place – but James thought he’d better make sure Potter Manor had been all right in his absence. 

What Kibby the house-elf informed him, however, had him wide-awake in an instant. 

‘What – _Lily_? She’s here?’ 

Kibby confirmed this, and James’s first thought was one of delight – Lily had come; she was here! Then, he recalled the dangers of impersonation. If it were a Death Eater in disguise, Polyjuiced as Lily … 

‘Kibby, did you ask –?’ 

‘Kibby is asking Miss, and Miss is answering right!’ 

James relaxed slightly. But he knew he would have to find her first to be sure it was really Lily. 

It was obvious where Lily was the moment James reached the first-floor landing. At the end of the corridor, a door which hadn’t been opened in ten years was ajar. 

He hadn’t entered Harriet’s room since his sister’s funeral. His parents, filled with grief and sorrow after her passing, had avoided it as they skirted talk about her, and James had followed suit. Over the years, they’d almost forgotten that her room even existed. 

But now, someone had breached that impassable barrier. 

James couldn’t help holding his breath as he crept through the open door, as though he was entering some sort of shrine. Everything inside the room was fusty: the effect of a room left untouched for years. Lily was sitting on the bed, her form shuddering as she stared at a photograph in her hands. She looked up as James approached, and he saw that she was crying, which puzzled him. 

Then she held out the photograph, and as his gaze landed on it, he understood. 

Thoughts and suspicions of Polyjuiced Death Eaters also flew out of his mind as he stared at the picture of himself, Harriet, and her husband Thomas, smiling and laughing as though they had always been that happy. 

Beaming as though Harriet and Thomas had never died. 

Lily had asked him a question, but he’d already forgotten what it was. She closed her fingers around his wrist and pulled at him to sit down next to her. 

‘I saw it happen,’ she choked out. ‘They killed – they forced …’ 

The whole story came spilling out of her: how Death Eaters had attacked a young family, forced the father, a Muggle, to murder his infant son, and then carelessly _Avada Kedavra_ -ed the father as well. 

‘They did it because she married a Muggle, James. Oh God, how _inhumane_ could they be? And that girl – she wasn’t much older that us, we must have been at Hogwarts with her at some time … and if we hadn’t been there, they’d probably have killed _her_ , too …’ 

_As they killed Harriet_ , thought James, with a lump in his throat. 

‘I saw this and I thought … this must have happened to … to her … and I’m so sorry, James. I know you’ve seen it all before …’ 

‘In this room,’ he whispered. ‘She died here.’ 

Lily wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. ‘I hate this war.’ 

‘I know,’ agreed James. It was so _hard_ , seeing that picture, remembering how happy they had been once … and now, Harriet wasn’t the only one to have suffered that way; Voldemort was causing more strife in the world with every passing day. And it would just continue: more people would be victimised, would lose those that they loved. 

He clenched his fist, rage at Voldemort flooding through him. There was the noise of crunching paper; he had unintentionally crumpled the photograph in his hand. 

Lily’s cool fingers brushed over his fist. She gently prised his fingers open and took the photograph from him. He watched her smooth it on her lap, attempting to iron out the wrinkles that he had made in the picture. 

It was the way they were trying to fight, he realised: rescuing lives before they could be crushed beyond repair; smoothing out the wrinkles as best as they could. 

But there would always be creases that were etched in so deeply that they would never be removed. 


	6. 06 Matrimonial Ideas

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER SIX:** **Matrimonial Ideas**

_October, 1978 – June, 1979_

Over the next year, Order business kept James running missions everywhere. Towards the end of the year, James did a spot of message-carrying, Apparating all over the United Kingdom to relay urgent messages to members of the Order. He did wonder why Dumbledore didn’t dispatch Fawkes to do it (or perhaps, why Fawkes didn’t do it himself, since the phoenix seemed to have a mind of his own), but found out later that Fawkes had been dying – an inaccurate phrasing, actually, since phoenixes were reborn from the ashes, but it explained why he was indisposed for a period. 

All the Order was on high alert during Christmas and the New Year, but other than an almost obligatory (on the Death Eaters’ parts) spate of Muggle-hunting, there was nothing more serious. 

Shortly after the New Year, James returned to the French Alps with Sirius and Moody, but they had no luck this time: the Death Eaters had wised up to them and altered their plans in deadly secrecy, and the result was the worst mass Muggle-killing ever seen as Voldemort’s giants stampeded through Southwest England. Potter Manor, in Hampshire, was ruined in the process. James sent Kibby to work at Hogwarts, and moved into Sirius’s house, a little thankful to be relieved of his large, empty, and lonely house. 

A series of raids in the Northeast proved to be more successful, when James and the Prewett twins burst in on a Death Eater meeting in Gateshead. It was a small-scale one, more of an initiation for new members than anything else. Nevertheless, they _Stupefied_ four and brought them in before several rather disgruntled Aurors. James supposed that the Aurors were irked because they had failed to make the arrests personally. It would be laughable, if it weren’t so infuriating, how the Aurors seemed to view the Order as a liability in the fight. It wasn’t even as if the Ministry was having a high success rate in catching Death Eaters – let alone Voldemort – for the Order to mar. 

Lily was just as busy as James was. Unlike him, she had her work for the Ministry. She dismissed it as ‘mind-numbing, useless spell-casting’, though; for her, the real work began after her hours at the Ministry, when she and Liz met to work on their special Shield Charm. 

As a result of the girls’ dedication, they often worked late into the night, trying, testing, and casting their spells. James didn’t really understand the principles of spellcrafting, but evidently, it required long hours of research and experimentation, which was taking its toll, as Lily looked even worse than she had when she had been catching up on work night after night in their seventh year. 

James couldn’t bring up his concern, however, because everyone else tended to have the same, tired look. Remus began to appear haggard not only after the full moon, but also for the remaining days of the month. Peter had dark rings under his eyes almost every time that James saw him. Even Sirius was no longer his active, energetic self. 

They needed a change, something to refresh and re-energise them all, and it was Frank Longbottom and Alice Moody who came up with the idea: they announced their engagement at an Order meeting in June, along with a daring wedding plan. 

‘We want to make it a public wedding,’ said Frank boldly. ‘A big event.’ 

‘That would pose an enormous security risk,’ argued Emmeline Vance. 

‘But if we pull it off,’ said Alice, her round face rosy with excitement, ‘it’ll be such a boost to the wizarding world!’ 

And so it would be. James saw at once that it was a perfect way to defy Voldemort and raise everybody’s flagging spirits. There hadn’t been formal gatherings for ages. A wedding, held in public, would be a prime target for Death Eaters. But if they could throw them off the scent and hold the ceremony successfully, it would give people a message of hope. 

‘It will take a lot of work,’ Elphias Doge observed. ‘And where are we going to find the energy and the _time_ to work on such a large scale project?’ 

‘Think of the merits!’ enthused Marlene McKinnon. And it was agreed upon that they would start channelling their efforts away from other work and into the wedding for the time being. 

Professor McGonagall took charge almost as if they were all in her Transfiguration classroom: listing tasks, accepting ideas, and delegating roles. 

‘The Aurors will help,’ Moody said gruffly. 

‘We need a distraction,’ suggested Sirius, his eyes lighting up like they had at the prospect of a prank, back in Hogwarts. 

‘A raid, elsewhere,’ contributed Benjy Fenwick. 

‘Set bait,’ offered Fabian Prewett. 

Remus came up with the cleverest idea. ‘Have a false alarm,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘A false wedding, just shortly before the real thing.’ 

The others latched on to this idea with enthusiasm. There was a flurry of propositions thrown out, which Remus dutifully inscribed with the air of one taking notes in lessons. By the time the meeting was adjourned, August the twenty-seventh had been set as a false date, with the actual wedding a short several days later (‘To give them no time to regroup,’ said James strategically, feeling like a Quidditch captain again.) 

~ * ~ 

It was on the Muggle Underground, a week after Frank and Alice had announced their engagement, on a look-out mission for the Order, that Lily saw her: tall, thin, and blonde, with bony elbows that jutted out on either side – it could only be Petunia. Evading Sirius’s warning grasp, Lily leapt from her seat and caught hold of her sister’s arm. 

‘Petunia!’ 

The pleasant, questioning look that had been on Petunia’s face as she turned around quickly faded the moment she recognised Lily. Her pale face went chalk-white, and she wrenched her arm away from Lily’s fingers. 

‘What are you doing here?’ she gasped, and Lily was alarmed to note that she sounded more frightened than anything else. ‘Why can’t you – you lot just stay away from us _normal_ people?’ 

‘Pet, I wanted to –’ 

‘Save it! I don’t want to hear it!’ The train pulled into the next station. Petunia backed out of the doors the moment they slid open – Lily would’ve sworn that it probably wasn’t even her stop. There was a look of panic on Petunia’s face as she nearly tripped over the platform gap in her haste to escape Lily. Something was definitely very wrong here – Petunia had been annoyed, angry, even hostile towards her before, but never fearful. 

‘Pet, come on –’ Lily hustled out of the train after her sister without a second thought, clean forgetting the reason why she was riding the tube in the first place. 

‘Stay away from me!’ said Petunia frantically. ‘And – and stop sending your – your kind to bother me!’ She all but turned and ran for it then, and Lily would have followed, had Sirius not grabbed her wrist firmly just at that moment. 

‘Lily!’ he hissed. ‘What in Godric’s name do you think you’re doing?’ 

‘Let me go – I’ve got to –’ She tried to shake Sirius off, so that she could dash after Petunia, but he held fast, and her sister disappeared into the crowd. 

‘Have you gone mad?’ 

‘In case you didn’t know, that was my _sister –_ ’ Lily began, but Sirius interrupted her with a loud curse, as the doors to the tube slammed shut with a soft _whump_. He turned to her, looking extremely annoyed. 

‘Don’t forget why we’re here in the first place!’ he said, keeping his voice low, but unable to prevent the irritation from creeping into his tone. 

With a jolt, Lily did remember their mission – they were supposed to be patrolling the Underground on Order business, based on a tip-off that the Death Eaters might be attempting a mass explosion on a crowded Muggle public train. Dumbledore had asked the two of them to take on the assignment, on the assumption that they’d find it easier to go undercover – Lily being Muggle-born, and Sirius having broken a school record with his Muggle Studies marks. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Lily said penitently. She’d possibly blown their cover – had she accidentally let something about magic slip? – and they’d just deserted their post. 

But it had been her _sister_. 

Petunia’s harried face and the brief words they had exchanged plagued Lily for the rest of the day. Why had she been so flustered, so keen to escape? Why had she looked so frightened, as if Lily were harbouring a contagious disease? 

And what had she meant by ‘sending your kind to bother me’? 

~ * ~ 

Frank and Alice’s impending wedding had set James thinking about more than just the Order’s preparations for the event. At night, in the moments before sleep claimed him, he imagined himself as the lucky groom – with Lily, looking resplendent in white wedding robes, beaming up at him. 

James had known for a long time that Lily was the only woman he would ever want – ever since fourth year, when he’d first realised that she was, indeed, a girl, and an attractive one at that. There had been other girls, of course, pretty and flirty and smart ones who weren’t as elusive as Lily had been, yet she’d continued to hold his attention. And once she’d given him another chance, he’d been determined never to let it go to waste. 

What if he were to ask Lily to marry him? The question was playing about in his mind as he waited with Sirius, Remus, and Peter for moonset. They had just spent the night in Sirius’s yard, the first full moon in months that all four had been present. It was getting harder to accompany Remus regularly each moon; they all had duties in the Order. James and Sirius left the country often, Peter worked nights sometimes, and other moons, Remus simply went missing, presumably on Order business as well. 

As the moon set and Remus discarded his bestial form, James, Sirius, and Peter reverted back to human shape as well. They sat together then, appreciating the rare occasion that they could all four be present for their once-monthly Animagi revel. 

The question that had been tormenting James slipped out of his mouth before he realised he had spoken aloud. 

‘Do I ask her?’ 

‘What do you mean?’ said Peter. 

James flushed – he hadn’t intended to speak out loud. But Sirius and Remus were awaiting his answer with unveiled interest. And anyway, these were his friends, his brothers. If he were to discuss his intentions with anyone … well, it would have to be them – his only family. 

‘Lily,’ he said. ‘D’you think I ought to … you know, ask her to …’ 

‘Marry you?’ supplied Sirius. 

‘Yeah.’ James tried to gauge his friends’ reactions from their faces in the dim morning light. 

Peter looked excited. ‘Would it be a joint wedding, James?’ 

Sirius gave him a half-exasperated, half-encouraging look. ‘I’d say it’s about time!’ 

Remus, however, was the voice of caution. ‘I don’t doubt your sincerity, James, but you’ve got to be practical, too. You’ll both have to live –’ 

‘He’s got a fortune, Moony,’ interrupted Sirius. ‘He can afford to get married.’ 

Remus shook his head solemnly. ‘But will Lily have? Lily won’t want to depend fully on your Gringotts vault, will she, James?’ 

‘Just because you won’t take your _friends’_ helping hands,’ said Sirius. James thought that Remus was right, though: Lily possessed an independent streak, and a determination to fend for herself – she’d preferred to rent out a room on her own rather than rely on him for board room, after all. 

‘Sirius, I don’t want to be a – a parasite, living off you or James –’ 

‘No one’s calling you a parasite!’ 

‘I’m getting on fine; I don’t need to impose –’ 

‘For God’s sake, Remus, you’re hardly making ends meet!’ 

‘I’m _fine_ , Sirius. And this isn’t about me; it’s about James and Lily.’ Remus turned away from Sirius and asked, ‘James, have you thought about where you’ll live?’ 

‘I … well …’ In truth, it was one detail he hadn’t really considered. Before, he’d had a house; a home to bring Lily to if she’d agree, but now, Potter Manor had been trampled to dust. He couldn’t very well suggest that they all live together in Sirius’s house, not if he and Lily were married. 

Sirius seemed to realise this as well, as he ceased arguing with Remus, and his face took on a disgruntled look. If Remus was aware that he had just arrowed home a point, he didn’t show it. 

‘That would be the first step, wouldn’t it?’ he suggested. ‘A home.’ 

‘We’ll help you look,’ offered Peter. 

It sounded good – a cosy, humble home, not too lavish or extravagant (Lily wouldn’t want that). When they parted ways after the sun had fully risen, all three of them had agreed to help keep an eye out for James. 


	7. 07 Birthday Surprises

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER SEVEN: Birthday Surprises**

_July – August, 1979_

Marcia Davenport wasn’t the last instance of Death Eater cruelty that Lily witnessed. There were more attacks, more terrible scenes displaying the very lowest level that humanity could sink to. 

The latest was a mass Muggle killing at Fort William: Death Eaters had blown up a bridge full of tourists, and by the time Lily arrived with Nicholas Lovegood and Marlene McKinnon, the entire site was in complete chaos. 

There was only one Death Eater left at the scene, surveying his work with his arms crossed in what Lily felt was a horribly smug manner. Marlene immediately went after him, but he Disapparated the moment she advanced, wand raised, and there was nothing they could do except try to clean up the damage that had been done. 

The bridge was beyond repair – half of it had fallen away into the loch below – and there was no help for the Muggle tourists who had gone down with it. But there were still survivors: lost, wide-eyed people wandering about; others staring numbly at the debris that had been a spectacular attraction just moments ago, as though they couldn’t fathom what had just occurred; children standing at the edge of the destruction, crying for their parents. 

_If only_ , thought Lily bitterly, _if only we’d been here earlier._

The Ministry’s Department of Magical Catastrophes personnel arrived to take care of the disaster. Lily wondered what reason the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee would provide for the explosion that had disintegrated the bridge. Terrorists, she would have explained. It wasn’t far from the truth, after all: what were Voldemort and his Death Eaters, if not a group of magical terrorists subverting their world because of their insanely warped ideology? 

A small hand tugged at the bottom of her robes. Lily looked down to see a tiny girl of four or five, with a scratched, bruised face and pleading eyes. 

‘Help Mama,’ said the girl urgently. 

‘Where’s your mama?’ 

The girl led her dangerously close to the epicentre of the destruction, a steep drop that must have formed when the bridge’s support structure had given way. Lily looked downwards and saw, with horror, that there was a woman there, wedged like a plank between a rock protruding from the earth and a surviving steel pillar. She could possibly have dislodged herself and climbed her way to safety, but her hands were tightly wrapped around a baby bundled at her chest. Her eyes lightened when she saw Lily peering down at her, and with tremendous effort, she held the baby up. 

There was a loud groan from the steel as the mother’s position shifted. Lily, reaching for the baby, heard it and froze, realising that the pillar supporting the woman’s back might be about to give way. The woman seemed to realise this, too; in a quick, decisive action, she curled herself into a sitting position and launched her baby upwards, into Lily’s waiting arms. 

The sudden movement was a catalyst – the steel pillar broke away with a resounding _crack_ , and the woman was flung off balance, her arms flailing as she fell away, gravity pulling her down towards the loch below to meet her death. Lily grappled for her wand, but the baby in her arms slowed her movement, and by the time she cast the Levitating Charm, it was too late. 

‘Mama!’ screamed the little girl who had approached Lily for help. She tried to leap off the side of the precipice after her mother, but Lily caught hold of her collar and held her back. ‘Mama!’ she continued to wail, as Lily dragged her, kicking and screaming, away from the edge. 

The girl beat at her with tiny fists, but Lily held both the children close until the girl’s pitiful cries softened into sobs punctuated with the occasional hiccup. Then she brought both of them to where Marlene and Nicholas were helping the Ministry to round up the other survivors. They were discharged into the care of a distraught father, who was at first relieved to find his children, then grief-stricken once he discovered the fate of his wife. 

That night, as she tried to bully her exhausted mind into shutting down so that she could sleep, Lily couldn’t shake off the image of the poor woman falling, falling, falling … It replayed itself in her head like a broken recorder: the baby flying into her arms, the mother letting go and plummeting away. Even as she drifted in and out of dreamland, the scene continued to rewind and play, until she wasn’t sure if she were dreaming or consciously reliving it. The actions changed occasionally – sometimes she was the one falling, but upwards, into the sky; or it was the baby, crying for her mother as she tumbled. In one recollection, the mother’s face stood out clearly, frozen in one particular instant. She had just realised that she was about to fall, and her fear was evident in her panicked expression. 

Then the terror was quickly replaced with a look of determination. As if someone had released the pause button, the woman flung her baby towards Lily’s arms. This time, Lily saw her face again, relaxed as she fell away, calm acceptance of her fate written across her features. At this juncture, Lily found herself awake and thinking lucidly. 

She had known. The young mother had _known_ that the steel structure wouldn’t support her any more. And she’d taken the chance to throw her baby to safety, even though it had resulted in her own death. Lily was certain of it, as her mind’s eye recreated the woman’s face, satisfied that she’d saved her child, thinking no more of her own life. 

The mother’s sacrifice tugged at Lily’s brain, prodding insistently at her. There was something … a connection she needed to make … 

She dropped off again before the conclusion could settle, but when the morning sunshine spilling through her tatty curtains, it arrived, fully-formed, at the front of her mind. 

Sacrifice – the sacrifice of love – was the single element she required to amalgamate the Death Shield. 

~ * ~ 

It seemed odd that an Order rescue mission might be a chance for James to carry out house shopping. He and Sirius had evacuated the Muggles from the three bombed houses in the village – it seemed that the Death Eaters had performed the Reductor and Merlin knew what other destructive curses at whim. 

He picked his way through the complaining Muggles, who were bitter over their misfortune. At the last house, he stopped. 

An old, balding Muggle stood at the gate, a mournful look on his wrinkled face. He wasn’t screaming or hysterical like the other Muggle families, just staring at the wreckage of his house – the roof had collapsed at one point, and one side of the wall had been blown inwards – and holding a signpost outside the gate upright. 

The Muggle turned and saw James watching him. He met James’s eyes and shook his head sadly, spreading his hands in a defeated gesture. 

‘Will you be all right?’ James found himself asking. 

‘There’s still the children, innit?’ shrugged the Muggle. ‘I would’ve gone anyway, once I’d sold the place. But no one’s daft enough to buy it now, are they?’ 

‘Well,’ said James, eyeing the damage critically. ‘It could be fixed up …’ 

‘I’ve no insurance, ‘ave I?’ 

James hadn’t the foggiest what insurance was, but as he turned the idea of repairing the house over in his mind, he found that it sounded like a good plan. What if _he_ were to buy the house, and patch it up? Already in his imagination he was rebuilding the place, picturing Lily sitting in a rocking chair beside a warm hearth, welcoming him home … 

‘How much would you be wanting?’ he asked. 

The Muggle looked at him dubiously. ‘You’d want to buy the place? Lookin’ like this? Broken an’ …’ 

‘Sure. Can I have a look inside?’ 

The Muggle gave his assent, still looking as though he thought James was out of his mind. James let himself in through the gate and gingerly opened the front door. 

Inside, it smelled of old shingles and wood – unsurprisingly, as the stairs had caved in along with the wall they were lined against and the wooden stair rails were splintered. He couldn’t get through the hallway, as the roof had collapsed right in the middle, blocking the way with a pile of broken plaster and tiles. The stairs were obviously impossible to negotiate as well, so James (taking a careful glance around first to make sure no one could see) Apparated to the top. Again, there wasn’t much to see – only one room had been left intact; it appeared to be the old Muggle’s bedroom. There was a photograph frame that had fallen to the ground. James picked it up and noticed that the glass was smashed, but the picture inside (the Muggle man, surrounded by five small children and an old, wrinkled woman, all unmoving) was still fine. 

James carried the frame with him as he Disapparated back downstairs and returned outside. He held it out to the Muggle by the gate, who took it from him in amazement. 

‘How …?’ The Muggle traced the faces of the people in the photograph with his finger. ‘That’s me and the grandkids, see,’ he said, pointing at the photograph. Then a sad, longing look crossed his face. ‘And their Gran.’ He pressed the picture to his heart and smiled at James. ‘Ah, you’re a good boy, you are,’ he said approvingly. ‘You still fancy it then, the house?’ 

‘Yes, please.’ Although he hadn’t seen much of the house, it was already establishing itself in his mind as the dream home he’d been searching for. And with work … it could probably become that. 

It didn’t take long for them to reach an agreement on the price. It was a ridiculously low amount in Galleons, but James supposed that in terms of Muggle money, the old man was pleased with the offer. 

James found out later, when he told Sirius about the deal, the crowning touch to the house. 

‘Couldn’t have chosen a better village, James,’ Sirius said approvingly. 

‘Really? How so?’ 

Sirius pointed to the address scrawled on the mailbox a few houses down. 

_3 Godric’s Hollow_. 

‘Godric’s …’ 

‘Can’t have a better Gryffindor connection than that, can you?’ 

~ * ~ 

There was a lull in Death Eater activity mid-July. While this wasn’t exactly a comforting scenario – what _were_ the Death Eaters and Voldemort up to, if not wreaking havoc across the nation? – it did allow James more time to work on the house in Godric’s Hollow. By Lily’s birthday, at the beginning of August, he had finished repairing the basic structure, and he felt that the time might be right to invite Lily to have a look. 

‘You ought to propose to her when you do,’ advised Sirius, who had invested many of his own free hours into helping James with his construction work. ‘She’ll eat it up.’ 

James decided to trust him on that. Sirius was considered the wisest among them when it came to women; he’d always known what to say or do to attract and retain female attention, and girls had flocked to him in hoards, only to be disappointed when they found out that he wasn’t interested in committing to a relationship that went beyond flirting. 

He brought Lily out for a birthday sundae at Florean Fortescue’s (no one made ice-cream like Florean, and James definitely wanted Lily in a good mood before he dared to propose). Halfway through their ice-cream, however, James developed an uneasy sensation that they were being watched. 

Under the pretence of scratching his neck, James tilted his head towards the windows behind him, and noticed her – a willowy blonde who was gazing in his and Lily’s direction. James tensed up immediately, as his mind jumped to the platinum-haired Malfoy family: Drucilla Malfoy, Lily’s old nemesis at school; Sirius’s cousin Narcissa. Neither of these women spying would bode well for them. 

Next to him, Lily must have felt the hand she was holding tighten, because she whispered, ‘What’s wrong?’ 

James threw another surreptitious glance over his shoulder, but the icy-fair woman had moved out of sight. 

‘I thought I saw …’ 

‘ _Petunia_?’ gasped Lily suddenly, as she, too, craned her neck around. Without warning, she scraped back the chair and shot to her feet, letting go of James’s hand. 

‘What?’ And then he saw her again – the blond woman flitted into view again, pressing her face to the window, peeking inside. Now that James could see her face, he realised with a mixture of relief and confusion that she was indeed Lily’s older sister. 

What was Petunia doing in a wizarding region such as Diagon Alley, though? 

The implausibility of the scenario didn’t seem to strike Lily, however. She was quickly weaving her way through the pub tables, towards the door. With a swish of her red ponytail, she disappeared through the exit. James hesitated for a moment before following her. 

Petunia had ducked into the alley between Madam Malkin’s and Flourish and Blotts. Lily quickly dashed after her, and by the time James caught up, he saw her throwing her arms around Petunia and hugging her sister tight. To her credit, this time, Petunia didn’t push Lily away; however, neither did she return the warm gesture. When Lily released her, James could see that her thin face was anxious and withdrawn. 

‘Pet, I’ve worried since I last saw you. I can’t believe you’ve come all the way to _Diagon Alley_! How did you …?’ 

‘I found my way, Lily. I just _had_ to find you – I can’t … I can’t keep this up any more, Lily. I need your help. You’ve got to …’ Petunia wrung her hands desperately. Lily caught them and held them fast. 

‘Of _course_ , I’ll help you, Pet. What’s happened? Has … have there been people – _magical_ folk – bothering you?’ 

She was talking about Death Eaters. James recalled the last visit to Petunia’s home that he and Lily had made together; Petunia’s husband had all but slammed the door in their faces, telling them never to darken their doorstep ever again. What horrible event could have taken place between then and now to bring Petunia in search of Lily? 

Or was it a trap? 

‘Will you – come with me?’ Petunia looked around edgily, as if afraid of being overheard. 

‘Pet, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on, first! This could be dangerous business – you don’t know how serious it is. Tell me, Pet, and I’ll get the Or – my friends to help.’ ‘No!’ Petunia sounded near to hysterics. ‘They’ll – they’ll – kill me if anyone knows I … they said they’d kill me if I told anyone, nobody can know …’ Her eyes were roving again, and they landed on James. She gave a frightened squeal, and backed away from Lily. ‘He …’ 

Lily threw a glance over her head and spotted him. ‘Pet, it’s just James, he won’t …’ 

‘No, Lily – I …’ She leaned forward to whisper something in Lily’s ear, then she bolted, pushing past James and dashing out of the alley, down the cobbled path of Diagon Alley. 

‘Petunia!’ 

James wasn’t sure what compelled him to do it, but he caught Lily’s arm firmly before she could dash after her sister again. There was something about the entire exchange that didn’t feel right to him. And he’d be damned if he let Lily run off blindly into a dangerous situation. 

‘James – what are you doing?’ Lily whirled around to face him, her eyes blazing. 

‘Lily, stop and think a while, will you? You can’t just go charging after her without knowing what’s going on – what if she leads you right to Death Eaters, or –’ 

‘And it’s all right to let her run into danger by herself?’ 

‘It’s just – there’s something … odd about this. What’s she doing here, in Diagon Alley, of all places? How did she get in? How did she know you’d be here?’ 

‘She’s _been_ here before, a long time ago, all right? Maybe she didn’t know, maybe she was just desperate, maybe she _really needs help_ and you’ve just _stopped me_!’ 

‘But … Lily, hasn’t she always hated magic before? Think of how she’s treated you!’ 

Lily glared at him. ‘She’s still my sister, James. I saw her, just a month ago – by _chance_ , in case you’re going to be suspicious about that, too. Sirius was with me, he’ll tell you. And she was so … something’s going on with her, James, and I’m scared that it might be my fault. Because of … you know.’ Her angry expression softened and faded to sadness. ‘I can’t let her be targeted because of me. And if she needs my help now … James, what would _you_ do if _your_ sister came to you all frantic like Pet, and asked you to help her?’ 

A vision of Harriet, on the doorstep, bloody and battered, half-dead, floated to the forefront of his mind. James pushed it away forcefully. This wasn’t the same case. Harriet and Petunia were miles apart from each other. 

‘It’s not the same …’ 

‘Of course it is!’ Lily tossed her head stubbornly. ‘She’s the only family I’ve got left. And I’m going to make sure I still have her.’ 

‘What if … what if she’s – what if it’s a ruse?’ 

Lily looked at him incredulously. ‘She’s a Muggle, James.’ 

‘Lily, I’m not saying that we shouldn’t help her. Look, we’ll find a way to protect her, all right? But you need to be careful. If someone’s threatening her, they’ll know about you, and I don’t want them to get you. Promise me you’ll take care, Lily.’ 

She fixed her bright green eyes on him for a long, silent minute. Then finally, she nodded. 

‘I’ll be careful,’ she agreed. 

James still felt his worry about the whole encounter niggling at him, but he tried to push it away. Forcing a smile, he said, ‘I reckon our sundaes have all melted.’ 

‘Reckon so,’ said Lily. ‘You’ll just have to buy me another one, then!’ 

He complied, but after the entire incident, he had lost his nerve to bring her by Godric’s Hollow. He would have to find another opportunity. 

 

**A/N** : Thank you **MagnoliaMama** , **belovedranger** , **exartemarte** , and **SnorkackCatcher** for their advice on LJ and the CM forums. And an extra big, special thanks to **Gilly** , who very kindly agreed to help and did a fantastic job with the Welsh Muggle’s accent! 


	8. 08 Bait and Sinker

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER EIGHT: Bait and Sinker**

_August, 1979_

Lily tried to concentrate on her work, but she couldn’t keep her mind off the slip of paper that seemed to be burning a hole in the pocket of her robes. Petunia had pressed it into her palm, whispering, ‘I can get away to meet you then,’ before hurrying away. 

For the past two days, Lily had carried that bit of paper with her at all times. She didn’t really need to; she’d already read and reread it so many times that the words it bore, _Sunday, 4pm, the Big Ben_ , were firmly inked in her memory. 

She hadn’t told James, because she had a feeling that he’d forbid her to go, urging her to ask him or another Order member in her stead. But Lily couldn’t do that. She knew Petunia; should a strange wizard (or even James, whom she’d always disliked) show up, Pet would scurry away quicker than a wizard could imagine possible for a Muggle. 

No, it had to be her, Lily. James wouldn’t understand, but then, he didn’t know Petunia the way she did. If she were to coax Pet to calm down and accept help from the Order, she would have to do it alone, slowly, rather than enlisting an army of troops who would scare Petunia. 

Nevertheless, she was still hesitating, although it was already a quarter to four. There was an Order meeting at five; James would have told her to bring the situation up then, and get help. But if she waited, she’d miss meeting Petunia, and what if she didn’t get another chance? Lily couldn’t let Pet slip away yet again. 

_You promised_ , nagged a voice in her head. 

_I promised him I would take care. I_ will _be careful. I’ll just go meet Pet, and persuade her to come with me, and we can be at the meeting at five and everything will be solved._

Her mind made up, she cast another glance at the clock on Liz’s mantelpiece. Ten to. 

‘Liz?’ 

Liz looked up from their latest prototype – one that Lily was confident would succeed this time. 

‘Mm?’ 

‘I’ve got to settle something before the meeting. I’ll see you there, all right?’ 

Still lost in concentration over the spell web, Liz nodded absently. Lily showed herself out and extracted the slip of paper from her pocket, although she didn’t really need to double-check her destination. Petunia’s long, slanted writing felt reassuring, however. 

_The Big Ben_ , Lily thought, and she Disapparated. 

~ * ~ 

Petunia was late. 

Lily tried to convince herself not to read too much into a tardiness of several minutes, that her sister would show up any time, explaining why she had been detained. She couldn’t, however, rid herself of that anxiety settling in the pit her stomach, which felt as though there were Billywigs buzzing inside. What if something had happened? What if it were too late? What if … 

Her insides turned over with relief as she spotted Petunia rushing towards her from the direction of Westminster Station. 

‘Petunia!’ 

‘Shh!’ Pet put a finger to her lips, looking stricken. ‘Not here, Lily –’ She grabbed hold of Lily’s arm and pulled her through the throng of Muggle tourists gazing at the clock tower. They were practically running along the pavement, through the Victoria Tower Gardens; a left turn here, a right there – Lily hoped Petunia knew where she was going … where _were_ they going? She was starting to feel quite winded (how had Pet managed to go so fast, when she’d always hated running or even brisk walking?) when Petunia finally slowed down and halted in front of several dustbins lining the dead end of an alley. 

‘Pet,’ said Lily after she’d caught her breath, ‘you need to tell me what’s going on.’ 

‘Did you come alone?’ said Petunia urgently. 

‘Yes, I –’ ‘Good.’ Petunia cut her off and her face broadened into a strange, satisfied smile. 

Confused, Lily ventured, ‘Pet, what –?’ 

Petunia moved so fast that it happened all in a blur: the wand whipping out of her handbag, her shouted ‘ _Expelliarmus!_ ’, the beam of red light striking and divesting Lily of her wand before she even had time to raise it. 

_A trap_. Lily cursed inwardly for having been so easily fooled. James – oh God, if only she’d listened to James … but no, she’d been so blinded by her determination to help her only family that she’d played right into the hands of whichever Death Eater was standing before her now, impersonating her sister – did that mean they had Petunia, then? – and clutching her wand with an expression of wild, inhuman glee. 

‘Who are you and what’ve you done to Pet?’ Lily demanded. 

‘Oh, I don’t think you’re in a position to ask questions, Evans,’ said the Death Eater lightly. ‘But rest assured, you’ll see your darling sister soon.’ She – at least, Lily assumed it was a she – laughed then, as though she’d said something incredibly hilarious. 

The impertinence of the Death Eater impersonating Petunia’s body and cackling out her laughter struck a nerve. Lily lunged at her, forgetting that she had just lost her wand, that she no longer had any means to truly fight back. Unsurprisingly, the Death Eater retaliated with a curse: 

‘ _Crucio_!’ 

Lily hardly had time to think, _So this is what it feels like_ , before a scream filled the air – a dim corner of her brain discerned that it was her own voice, but she was beyond caring what her vocal cords were doing. Her limbs, her muscles, her skin … it was all on fire; she was being pierced by a thousand sharp needles; she was going to explode at any moment. 

How long had it been: a second, a minute, an hour? Pain was agonizingly divorced from time. What might have been less than half a minute seemed endless. 

‘I’ve wanted to do that for ages, Mudblood,’ hissed Petunia’s voice in her ear. 

_Not Petunia. The Death Eater._

‘Give me a reason later, and I’ll do it again.’ 

There was a bright flash of red – had a Stunner been cast? – and the unconsciousness that Lily sank into felt blissful. 

~ * ~ 

Fifteen minutes into the Order meeting and half the members present were tapping their feet, twiddling their thumbs, or checking and rechecking their watches impatiently. Only Dumbledore sat serenely at the head of the table, waiting placidly. 

James couldn’t stop fidgeting, though it had nothing to do with wasting time, and all to do with the fact that Lily was missing. 

She’d never been late before. And she wouldn’t miss this one, not when they’d agreed to find a way to help Petunia during the meeting. 

‘Albus, I think we ought to get on with it,’ said Professor McGonagall, with a last, disapproving look at her watch. ‘When Miss Evans shows up, we can update her privately.’ 

‘Very well, Minerva,’ sighed Dumbledore. ‘I had hoped that Miss Evans could be present, because she and Miss Ollivander will have much to do with the design of the Security Charms for the wedding.’ 

‘Lily said she had to stop by somewhere before the meeting, Professor,’ said Liz. ‘I expect she’s been detained.’ 

‘And without having the courtesy to leave a message,’ growled Moody. ‘Not like her at all.’ 

James had to agree – Lily wasn’t the type to disappear without warning. But believing that she had taken French leave was better than the alternative. 

When the meeting had ended and still no sign of Lily, James took Liz aside and asked, ‘Liz, did Lily say where she was going?’ 

Liz looked horribly apologetic as she replied, ‘I’m sorry, James, I didn’t really pry. She just said that she had to settle something. I didn’t think anything of it … you don’t think something’s happened, do you?’ 

‘Always assume the worst, unless proven otherwise,’ said a grim voice, and Moody, who had overheard their exchange, stomped over. ‘Get searching for her, Potter. I don’t like the sound of this at all.’ 

Neither did James. His mind was spinning; where could Lily have gone, and what could have happened to her there? 

‘Liz, _think_ , can you remember anything more at all?’ 

‘I’m sorry,’ said Liz. ‘I – I was concentrating so hard on my work that I hardly even heard her … if only I’d paid more attention.’ She sounded close to tears. 

‘Here, don’t fall apart now, Liz,’ said Moody sternly. ‘We need a clue. What might this business of hers be?’ 

‘I don’t know … we’ve only been working on the Death Shield … and other than that, it’s just the security for Frank and Alice’s wedding … and raids, but if she’d got called, we’d know, wouldn’t we?’ 

‘I know something else,’ said James, his heart falling as he realised the one other place Lily might have gone. ‘Her sister might be in trouble. She may have gone to find her.’ _And the Death Eaters might have used Petunia as bait for Lily._

‘Where’s this sister live?’ said Moody. ‘We’ll start from square one.’ 

James hoped Petunia and her husband hadn’t moved since he’d last visited them with Lily nearly two years ago. Luckily, the door was answered by Petunia’s beefy husband, meaning they’d got the right house. 

‘We’re looking for Petunia Evans?’ said Liz tentatively. 

Petunia’s husband, who was shorter than James but twice his width, took an unexpected swing at them. 

‘Kidnappers!’ he screamed. ‘You’ve got my wife! Police! Call the police! The bastards have come back!’ 

‘ _Silencio_ ,’ muttered Moody, and Petunia’s husband was cut off mid-howl. His face went redder than a tomato when he understood what had just taken place. 

‘Get inside,’ ordered Moody, and they pushed Petunia’s husband into the house. ‘We’re trying to track your wife down and get her back, so it’s in your interests to co-operate.’ Petunia’s husband glared at them sulkily, and James did a quick _Finite_. 

‘What the effing hell do you lot want with us?’ 

‘What happened to Petunia?’ asked James. 

‘ _You_ probably already know,’ growled Petunia’s husband. ‘Been gone four days already and I’ll bet it’s to do with your lot.’ 

‘Four days?’ echoed James in dismay. That meant … he thought back quickly to that last meeting with Petunia. Three days ago … but if Petunia had already been missing, then … He wasn’t sure he really wanted to follow that thought to its conclusion. 

‘Can you tell us anything about how she disappeared?’ said Liz. 

‘Disappeared? I’ll give you disappeared, you cow, she was _abducted_. Bunch of ruffians charged in here and turned the whole place upside down and one of them knocked me out and when I came to she was gone!’ 

‘Death Eaters,’ confirmed Moody. ‘You’re lucky they didn’t kill you.’ 

‘Are you telling me they’ve murdered my wife! I’ll have their heads –’ 

‘No, you won’t,’ said Liz soothingly. ‘We’ll bring her back. We’ll find her.’ 

They had the house secured, with Petunia’s husband still inside. To say he wasn’t too pleased about being magically locked in would be an understatement: he banged at the door, yelling and shouting and from the sound of it, throwing things at the walls. 

‘Should’ve silenced him again,’ muttered Moody as they left. 

‘He’s distraught … getting locked in his own home can’t really help his mood –’ 

‘He’s throwing a bloody tantrum,’ retorted Moody. ‘And a pretty mess we’d have if we came back to find the Death Eaters decided to finish their job on him.’ 

James didn’t say anything; he was still running through everything Petunia – if it had even been Petunia and not a masquerading Death Eater – had said to them on Lily’s birthday, trying to find a clue. The only information he could gather on hindsight, however, was that he had been right and it had been a trap – but knowing that _now_ wasn’t any comfort at all. 

He wondered if all this would have happened four days earlier if Lily had followed her sister out of Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlour alone … Had the Death Eaters who had taken her sister planned to capture Lily there and then? 

It would make sense. Petunia had been kidnapped four days ago. On the same day that they had taken her, she had shown up in Diagon Alley – James was convinced now that it was either Petunia under Imperius or an impostor using Polyjuice – and tried to lure Lily away. But he had been there, and he had followed them to that alley where the Death Eater responsible for all this must have wanted to overpower and seize her. 

If that had been their original plan, then … 

Suddenly, it dawned on him where they would find the first clue. 

‘We’ve got to go to Diagon Alley,’ he said. 


	9. 09 The Tangled Web of Misunderstanding

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by shiiki 

**CHAPTER NINE:** **The Tangled Web of Misunderstanding**

_August, 1979_

Someone was stroking Lily’s cheek with a cold finger. Three light strokes, and then a stinging slap across Lily’s face caused her eyes to fly open in shock. There was a raucous laugh from behind her. 

‘Wakey wakey, little Mudblood,’ someone taunted. ‘Someone’s here to meet you.’ 

She was in an enclosed room lit only by a pin-prick of wand light. Bound to a chair with ropes strapping her feet and arms and even her neck, Lily couldn’t even twist her neck to see who was behind her. She was forced to stare straight ahead at the leering face of the Death Eater who must have slapped her. 

The glow from the Death Eater’s wand illuminated her face, twisted in a sadistic smile, and Lily was able to recognise her alabaster complexion and platinum hair. 

Drucilla Malfoy. And as the Death Eater behind her gave another cackle, Lily thought she knew who her other captor was as well: Bellatrix Black. 

‘Bring her in, Regulus,’ commanded Drucilla. Lily heard a door behind her scrape open, and there was a scuffling of feet. 

‘Let me go!’ cried a high, terrified voice. A moment later, Petunia, her wrists bound and a blindfold covering her eyes, was flung onto the ground in front of Lily. ‘What do you want from me?’ 

Bellatrix laughed again, sending a chill up Lily’s spine. Drucilla smirked as she said, ‘It’s what we’re going to get from your darling sister that’s more important.’ 

‘I’ve got nothing to do with her! I’ve got nothing to do with your world!’ 

‘Glad you know it, Muggle,’ said Bellatrix coldly. ‘Neither of you belong in our world.’ 

‘Let me go, then!’ snarled Petunia. ‘If you don’t want anything to do with me, why the hell have you brought me here?’ 

‘Oh, dear innocent Muggle,’ sneered Drucilla. ‘Well, uncover her eyes, then, Regulus, and let her see for herself why she’s here.’ 

Someone moved forward from behind, entering Lily’s field of vision to remove Petunia’s blindfold. Lily hadn’t seen him for several years, but Regulus Black looked too similar to his brother for her not to recognise him instantly. Regulus whipped off the blindfold and quickly moved back. Petunia’s eyes landed on Lily and narrowed. 

‘You – I told you to tell your people to _leave me alone_!’ 

Lily opened her mouth to explain, but she found that she must have been hit by a Silencing Charm, because not a sound could she make. 

‘Pity,’ said Drucilla. ‘You wouldn’t be here if your darling sister hadn’t meddled in things that don’t concern her … or if she’d simply stayed out of a world she doesn’t belong to. Isn’t that right, now, Evans?’ Lily’s inability to answer seemed to amuse her, because she grinned. ‘ _Finite Incantatem_. Why don’t you tell your sister just what you’re up to that’s landed her here?’ 

Lily realised that she _couldn’t_ speak; Drucilla and Bellatrix had enticed her here simply to draw whatever information they could out of her. They must have found out that she was part of the Order. They had obviously traced Petunia. How much had they discovered already? Did they know about her work on the Death Shield? 

‘Speechless, Mudblood?’ said Bellatrix from behind her. Lily felt the point of a wand prod the nape of her neck. ‘A taste of pain, then. I find that _most_ effective.’ 

Lily’s muscles tensed immediately; pain could only mean the Cruciatus. Bellatrix was going to torture her, put her through that same insufferable agony that she’d just felt earlier. Until she broke and told all her secrets – all the Order’s secrets. Fear gripped her heart at the thought. How many minutes of the curse could she stand before she caved in? 

But the firing pain she was anticipating didn’t come. 

‘No,’ said Drucilla. 

‘Getting soft, Dru?’ barked Bellatrix. 

‘Not on the Mudblood, Bella. _Crucio_ is all well and good, but mental torture works wonders you wouldn’t believe.’ Lily realised with horror what Drucilla was suggesting. 

‘ _No_! Don’t –’ 

‘ _Crucio_!’ said Bellatrix, and the room was filled with Petunia’s screams. 

‘ _Stop_!’ pleaded Lily. ‘Please – she’s got nothing to do with this at all! Leave her alone!’ 

‘What did I tell you?’ said Drucilla in satisfaction. ‘Let up, Bella.’ 

Wracked sobbing emanated from Petunia, as she gasped and coughed as though she were fighting for breath. Drucilla couldn’t have found a more effective way to drive a knife deep into Lily’s heart. 

‘Ready to spill, then, Mudblood? We’re going to start with an apology.’ 

Lily stared at her blankly. What was she meant to apologise for? 

‘Save your little vengeances for later, Dru,’ snarled Bella. 

‘They aren’t _little_ vengeances,’ hissed Drucilla. ‘She got me _expelled_ –’ 

‘And you should have been _proud_ to have left school on behalf of the Dark Lord!’ ‘I could have been powerful, like Lucius, and a greater help had the Mudblood not interfered!’ There was a sulky edge to Drucilla’s voice. 

Bellatrix barked out a harsh laugh. ‘You can be useful _now_ , by asking the Mudblood the right questions. You can do what you like with her later.’ She leaned close to Lily, so that her lips were almost brushing Lily’s ear as she said, ‘You can tell us whatever you know, or you can watch your sister suffer. And I promise you, I can make her die _slowly_.’ 

‘I know nothing,’ Lily said as convincingly as she could. 

‘ _I know nothing_ ,’ mimicked Bellatrix. ‘So the Mudblood can lie.’ She came around to stand in front of Lily, such that Lily had a clear view of her dark, striking face before Bellatrix lashed out without warning. 

It was Lily’s turn for the Cruciatus Curse, and constrained by her bindings, she felt as if she would explode at any moment; the ropes were cutting her skin, as if they would slice her into pieces … 

And after what seemed an infinitely long time, Lily realised that it had stopped, and the intensity of the pain was abating. 

‘That’s how you and your sister will die,’ said Bellatrix. ‘Her first.’ She raised her wand at Petunia, who cowered on the floor. 

‘No!’ The cry tore hoarsely out of Lily’s throat. Bellatrix _couldn’t_ subject Petunia again to what she had just put Lily through! Having just felt the burn of the Cruciatus, Lily felt even more tortured to think that Petunia was going to go through that now. 

‘Well, then, it’s very easy, Mudblood. You know the magic words,’ said Drucilla. 

‘I –’ It was simple enough to appease Drucilla, wasn’t it? It wouldn’t cost Lily to cough out an apology … not if it would help Petunia. ‘I’m sorry you were expelled, Drucilla.’ 

Pleased, Drucilla smiled smugly. ‘Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it, Mudblood?’ 

Bellatrix laughed derisively. ‘And that wasn’t so useful, was it, Malfoy? Get some real information, will you? What Dumbledore’s up to, for one. Ready to share, Mudblood?’ 

‘He’s running Hogwarts, as he always has,’ said Lily. 

‘Insolence won’t help your sister, Mudblood. _Crucio_!’ 

Again, Petunia’s screams reverberated throughout the room. Lily clamped her eyes shut, unable to bear watching her sister writhe and scream as though she was having a seizure. 

‘Stop it!’ she yelled. 

‘As you wish,’ said Bellatrix, sounding almost amused. ‘Every mistake you make, Mudblood, and she’ll get that again,’ threatened Drucilla. ‘I’ll try another question: what plans have Dumbledore’s little resistance group got?’ 

‘Lily,’ croaked Petunia, reaching a hand feebly towards Lily. ‘Please, Lily, just do what they want.’ 

‘Listen to the Muggle beg, now! Better do as she asks, Mudblood.’ 

‘I … I don’t know,’ Lily whispered. _Pet, I’m sorry_ , she thought. 

‘Wrong answer.’ 

‘No – don’t … take me instead!’ Lily hastened to plead before Bellatrix could cast the curse. 

‘You were warned, Mudblood,’ said Drucilla mercilessly. 

‘ _Reducto_!’ Lily screamed then, thinking Bellatrix had simply blown Petunia up, but the spell had been cast by someone outside the room. From the sound of it, the door had been smashed in, knocking Regulus Black backwards roughly. His head knocked against Lily’s as he stumbled, so hard that Lily saw stars. 

‘ _Crucio_!’ yelled Bellatrix, but her wand was pointed at whoever had just barged in. Lily allowed herself to hope then – was help imminent? She’d thought it was helpless; no one had known she was going to meet Petunia. Had the Order managed to find her anyway? 

‘ _Expelliarmus_!’ 

‘ _Stupefy_!’ 

The air was thick with flying curses; their sizzling trails left a charred smell in the air. One errant curse sliced the back of her chair, cutting the ropes holding her tight to snap. Freed from her bonds, Lily leapt out and ran to Petunia, who was curled up into a frightened ball, her arms over her head. 

‘ _Avada Kedavra_!’ 

The dreaded killing curse arched from Bellatrix’s wand, straight towards one of their rescuers. With a jolt, Lily recognised Liz. ‘Watch out!’ she screamed. Liz ducked at the sound of her voice, and the green light streaked harmlessly over her head, travelling across the room to meet Drucilla Malfoy’s turned back. 

Drucilla collapsed instantly; she was dead. Lily felt rooted to the spot, shocked. 

There was movement behind them; deprived of her wand, Lily could only swing her arms wildly, hoping to punch whoever it was … 

Thankfully her swing failed to connect; Moody avoided her fist neatly and grimaced at her. 

‘Watch it, girl!’ 

‘Let’s get out of here, come on,’ said James’s voice, and Lily looked up to see him pulling at her arm. Next to them, Moody was helping Petunia to her feet. Liz ran from her duel with Bellatrix and together, they made for the door, ducking the curses that rained one after the other from Bellatrix’s wand. 

‘ _Impedimenta_!’ cried Moody and James simultaneously. One of their hexes must have hit target, because Bellatrix’s footsteps slowed, and there was a pause in the flying jinxes. Through a series of corridors, they dashed along, until they reached a large front door which must have been blown inwards earlier on. 

‘Sirius!’ yelled James. To Lily and Petunia, he gestured to an enormous motorcycle parked just by the (now non-existent) door. ‘Get on,’ he said urgently. 

‘What?’ 

‘Get on!’ he repeated. Sirius came dashing out of the door, followed closely by Regulus Black. 

Liz and Moody gave Petunia a boost up onto the bike and Lily swung a leg over behind her. Sirius clambered on and stuck his wand where the ignition key should have been. The motorbike roared to life. 

‘Wait!’ Regulus Black, gulping nervously, held out a wand. Lily’s heart leapt. _Her_ wand. 

Sirius leaned sideways and snatched it from his brother’s fingers. Regulus took a step backwards, looking frightened as Moody trained his wand on him. 

‘Reg, come –’ started Sirius, but Bellatrix burst out of the house just then, screaming like a banshee and firing curses at top speed. 

‘ _Go_!’ said James, and Sirius accelerated the bike. Liz, Moody, and James Disapparated right away (although Moody paused a second to Stun Regulus). 

‘Blood traitor!’ screeched Bellatrix, flinging a curse after Sirius, Lily, and Petunia. The beam of light flew straight for them, Lily tightened her grip on Petunia in front of her, but the motorbike lurched upwards, gaining height, flying them away from Bellatrix, to safety. 

~ * ~ 

James wasn’t sure what to say to Petunia Evans. She lay in the Hogwarts infirmary, picking at imaginary lint on the sheets, staring determinedly away from him. 

On one hand, he was sorry for her; she’d been kidnapped and held against her will for a matter which shouldn’t have involved her; on the other, she had previously refused help to guard against such an eventuality. 

When he thought of how that refusal had nearly cost Lily her life – what _had_ Lily been thinking, too, running off like that without a word to anyone? – James felt as though he could justify that Petunia deserved what she got. 

The infirmary door opened and Liz walked in. ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked Petunia kindly. Petunia pursed her lips and pretended she hadn’t heard. Undeterred, Liz continued, ‘I’ve been to see your husband, and I’ve informed him that you’re safe and will be back home with him soon.’ 

Petunia finally turned to look at Liz. ‘Is Vernon safe?’ she said anxiously. 

‘Yes, he is. He’s not too happy with the measures we took to ensure his safety, but I’m sure you’ll understand it’s for the best.’ Liz smiled pleasantly, but Petunia didn’t return it. 

‘And I’m supposed to thank you for messing up our lives, I suppose,’ she said bitterly. 

‘Messing up your lives?’ said James incredulously. ‘Look, I’m not sure if it’s occurred to yet, but if we hadn’t stepped in, you’d be _dead_.’ 

Petunia finally faced him then. ‘I didn’t ask to be dragged off by your lot and you know it. This war of yours has _nothing_ to do with me or Vernon. Why can’t you leave us alone?’ 

‘Alas, Mrs Dursley, war is indiscriminate in choosing its victims.’ Dumbledore had joined them. ‘No one regrets more than I that innocents such as yourself have been subject to situations which you cannot understand.’ 

‘Save your fancy words,’ sniffed Petunia. 

‘What would you like us to do, Petunia?’ said Dumbledore gravely. 

Petunia stared at him as though he was crazy. ‘Isn’t it obvious? I want you to leave Vernon and me alone. We’re _normal_.’ 

‘That is possible, but you will need to accept our help first.’ 

‘What sort of help?’ Petunia narrowed her eyes suspiciously. 

‘Help which you slammed your door at when we first offered,’ James couldn’t help putting in. Dumbledore held up a hand to silence him. 

‘Magical protection. We can guard you against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.’ 

‘And none of you will try contact me?’ 

‘As far as is reasonably possible.’ Petunia’s lips pursed again at this, but after a moment of deep thought, she agreed. 

‘Very well, then,’ said Dumbledore. ‘I expect you wish to speak to your sister before you go –’ 

‘ _No_ ,’ said Petunia so emphatically that James was shocked. ‘I don’t want …’ Her voice wobbled a bit and she stopped to catch herself. Then, she said monotonously, ‘She’s not my sister.’ 

‘Petunia, this has been hard for you, but surely …’ began Liz gently. 

‘I’m sick and tired of being dragged into her business!’ interrupted Petunia. ‘If she wants to go to hell, that’s her lookout; she can bloody well keep me out of it!’ 

James took a step forward angrily. ‘She nearly got herself killed running in to save you –’ 

Petunia laughed coldly. ‘Please. I’m not an idiot. She wasn’t willing to do _anything_. Even when I begged her.’ She ran a thin hand over her face. ‘I lost my sister years ago. Don’t try to tell me otherwise.’ Turning to address Dumbledore, she said, ‘I want to go to Vernon now.’ 

Dumbledore stared piercingly at her a few seconds, but Petunia didn’t back down. There was something in the determined tilt of her chin that was vaguely familiar to James. Finally, Dumbledore nodded. 

‘Miss Ollivander, Mr Potter, would one of you be so kind as to escort Mrs Dursley home?’ 

Petunia immediately moved towards Liz. ‘Not _you_ ,’ she said pointedly to James. 

Shrugging apologetically to James, Liz showed Petunia out. ‘Have you used Floo Powder before, Petunia?’ he heard her ask as they left. 

‘Lily should be out in a moment, James. Alastor still had some words for her when I left.’ 

‘Oh – OK, Professor. Thank you.’ James sat back on one of the hospital wing beds to wait. 

No sooner had Dumbledore left did Lily come in, her face tired and downfallen. 

‘Oh, James,’ she said when she saw him. She glanced around the room, searching. ‘Where’s Pet?’ 

‘She … left …’ 

‘ _Left_? Where did she go?’ 

James shrugged, not knowing exactly if he ought to tell Lily that her sister had wanted to return home without acknowledging her. It would only hurt her to know it. 

‘I’ve got to go find her then, I need to explain.’ Lily turned to go, but James caught her arm. 

‘No, don’t. You look dead on your feet; you’d better take a rest.’ 

‘I’m fine, James.’ Lily jerked free. ‘I need to talk to Pet –’ 

‘Lily, you can’t –’ He reached for her again. 

‘What’s the matter with you?’ said Lily, sounding exasperated. ‘I have to find my sister; let me go!’ 

‘She doesn’t need you to!’ 

Lily drew back as though he had struck her. ‘You don’t understand,’ she whispered, shaking her head. ‘They tortured her, James. Because they wanted information from _me_. I have to tell her –’ 

‘You owe her nothing!’ 

‘She’s my _sister_ , James! If she needs me, I’ll –’ 

‘You’ll what? Walk straight into a bloody Death Eater trap and almost get yourself killed?’ James felt furious suddenly, remembering just how Lily had got herself abducted. ‘What the _hell_ were you thinking, Lily?’ 

‘Save the lecture, Moody’s already given it.’ 

‘Well, you obviously _need_ it! Did you even think about how sick we’d be worrying about you?’

‘Stop it.’ 

‘You didn’t, did you? No – it was all about Petunia, all about you running around frantically to save her single-handedly so you could make it up to her somehow, wasn’t it?’ 

‘James, stop.’ He didn’t stop; he was gathering steam like the Hogwarts Express, and the words came tumbling out of his mouth without inhibition. ‘Why do you even bother, Lily? You’ve got nothing to answer to her for! She’s at fault, not you! She –’ 

‘Enough!’ 

‘– doesn’t deserve everything that you keep doing for her!’ 

‘Shut up, James!’ 

‘For Merlin’s sake, Lily, she doesn’t care about you!’ 

She slapped him, hard. James reeled backwards, his hand flying to his cheek. 

‘That’s not true,’ Lily said. Her voice was trembling slightly. 

‘Would I lie to you about that, Lily?’ 

She didn’t answer, and James felt even more frustrated. ‘Damn it, Lily,’ he said roughly. ‘While you’re busy running circles around her, do you even care about the rest of us who _actually love you_?’ 

Lily opened her mouth to answer, but James found that he didn’t want to hear any more protests or excuses from her. 

‘Forget it,’ he said, and he swept past her and out of the infirmary. 

 

**_A/N_** _: This chapter was written some time back over a long, long journey in Germany, while accompanying my coach to ferry boats on trailers up the autobahn. So I suppose I’d better thank the boredom of the long ride for providing inspiration! :)_


	10. 10 Calm Before the Storm

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER TEN:** **Calm Before the Storm**

_August, 1979_

‘ _Protego Amore_ ,’ said Lily distinctly. _This has to work, this has to work …_ Beside her, Liz’s lips were moving in a silent mantra that was probably similar to the one in Lily’s mind. 

She had cast the Shield Charm, infused with love; steeped in sacrifice: if she and Liz had done it, the charm would absorb the elements of the killing curse, engulfing it and disintegrating it. The final touches to the spell had been clinched by an idea from a Muggle Chemistry textbook: sacrificial protection. According to the book, Muggles used a more reactive metal to protect a less reactive one from corrosion. They’d taken this concept and applied it to their spellcrafting: a shield to absorb the killing curse’s energy so that it wouldn’t focus on the charm’s caster. Theoretically, the charm should be able to hold off the killing curse as long as the caster could keep it in place. Rather like a battle of wills, Lily imagined it: certainly, holding the charm would be difficult, but the murderer would have to hold _Avada Kedavra_ for just as long, and surely that would tire him (or her) out as well! 

‘ _Conspicuous_!’ said Liz, and the powerful lines of light defining their charm materialised, looking exactly like the visual prototype they had created earlier to help them along. Lily felt a sense of pride – this beautiful, potent charm was _their_ work; _their_ effort; its success would be _theirs_. 

Moody surveyed the spell approvingly. ‘It looks … it feels … right,’ he said. ‘Stand back, now.’ When Lily and Liz had stepped out of range, he aimed his wand through the visible shield towards a spider crawling slowly across the floor. Lily held her breath. 

‘ _Avada Kedavra_!’ 

The beam of green light streaked out of his wand, right at the pure, white light radiating from Lily’s. There was a crushing sense of pressure gripping Lily as she waited, anticipating the collision … and then the lights connected with a tiny explosion. 

‘Oh my God,’ breathed Liz, her hand flying to her mouth in wonder. 

Lily’s arms were tingling, her hair standing on end. This was powerful, powerful magic! She had to focus with all her might, concentrating on that little shield she was holding out to protect the spider, the only barrier between the arachnid and death. It was so much more tiring than she had expected, just holding it there, countering a single curse. Moody wasn’t even breaking a sweat; he had lowered his wand, and was watching her with intense interest. 

But it was working! She was holding the curse at bay, although it was sapping her strength the longer she tried. Her arms were starting to tremble with the effort; her head throbbed as she forced herself to concentrate. It didn’t matter, though. The important thing was that the charm was working! 

And then, with a powerful rush of white light, the green vanished. It just seemed to … implode. Lily lowered her wand, breathing hard, as though she had just flown a trans-Atlantic – or maybe a round-the-world – broom race. Her arms were sore and her head pounding, but she felt elated. 

The spider scampered across the room, found a knothole, and disappeared. 

There was a long moment of silence, during which the three of them simply stared at each other, beaming. And then Liz burst out laughing. 

‘We did it! Oh my God, Lily, that was _spectacular_! I thought you were going to let go, actually, but you held on, and then … wow … we’re going to have to modify it, and see if we can make it work quicker or less tough to cast, but we’re _definitely_ on the right track!’ 

‘Well _done_ , girls,’ said Moody approvingly. ‘Dinner, then? On me.’ 

‘Oh, yes, please,’ said Liz enthusiastically, once they’d got over the shock. It wasn’t everyday that Moody treated you to a meal! (If he’d ever even done it before.) She turned to Lily, her excitement over their success radiantly displayed across her face. ‘Come on, Lily, you deserve this the most!’ 

Lily shook her head. ‘We did everything together.’ 

‘Yes, but you’ve done so much last week – I don’t believe you’ve properly rested at all! Come on, a good meal will do you good!’ 

‘I … I think I’d rather have a rest first, if that’s all right with you. That charm took a lot out of me …’ 

‘Meaning you need some sustenance first,’ said Moody firmly. They wouldn’t take no for an answer, and Lily soon relented. She _was_ rather hungry. 

After a wonderfully filling meal at the pub Liz had chosen (Liz was right; Lily _hadn’t_ eaten so well in weeks), Lily thought her bed sounded incredibly inviting. When she collapsed into it, however, sleep wouldn’t come, although she felt exhausted. Sitting up again, she reached for her wand on her bed table. 

‘ _Apparecium Protego Amore_ ,’ she whispered softly. 

The shining map of her charm lit up her dark room. Lily gazed at it fondly, marvelling at its brilliance. It filled her with joy – a happiness that she hadn’t felt for so long, not since she and James had quarrelled. She’d hardly seen him in the past two weeks – he’d kept a stony silence since their last argument, and she had felt so miserable that she’d immersed herself in work – besides the Death Shield, there had been security charms to work on for Alice and Frank’s wedding. When she was busy, it was easy to forget the trials of her life: James angry at her, Petunia disappearing again – James evidently knew something about that, but refused to tell, which made _her_ angry, too. 

It had become customary for her to while away long hours (which got steadily longer) at Liz’s place, often staying late into the night to muse over new ideas. Sleep no longer seemed to be an essential commodity; nor did food. She didn’t starve herself, but Lily couldn’t seem to work up an appetite at the right hours. A little something when she woke, and again before she went to bed saw her through the entire day. On the days when she worked until dawn, she mostly forgot completely about eating. 

No wonder Liz had been worried! But it would be all right now. They’d succeeded with their Death Shield – the web of which was flooding her room with a lovely light ( _The light of love_ , Lily thought) – and she’d find James and patch things up with him. 

Lily reached out to touch her spell web. She’d never done it before – Professor Flitwick had warned her before that it wasn’t the safest thing to do – but she knew without a doubt that _this_ spell had no power to harm. It could only heal. 

It coursed through her, a magical, almost electrifying, warmth. Lily gave a gasp of delight and lowered her wand in her amazement; the web dissolved. 

With a smile, she settled back against her pillow and closed her eyes. Unsurprisingly, her slumber was deep and peaceful that night. 

~ * ~ 

James could count the number of times he’d met with Lily since her kidnapping on one hand. 

On one finger, actually: he’d sought her out a few days later, once he’d cooled down considerably. They had, however, ended up screaming their lungs out at each other again – James couldn’t remember exactly what had set them off, but Petunia and the kidnapping had come into it, and Lily had gone so far as to insinuate that perhaps he shouldn’t have come after her since he didn’t seem to care about what mattered to her, and he’d actually replied that maybe he shouldn’t! 

He’d left thinking that he wouldn’t go find her again; _she_ could come and apologise for being bloody pigheaded and completely out of order. For heavens sake, couldn’t she realise that she’d made a mistake about her sister? They’d avoided each other after that, a surprisingly easy task, as the Order kept them both busy with preparations for Alice and Frank’s wedding. A hundred and fifty invitations in total were sent out, all bearing the date of the auspicious event as the twenty-seventh of August. They beseeched the recipients to keep the news to themselves, however, with dire consequences to those who blabbed. James knew, from an Order meeting during which neither of them had even glanced the other’s way, Lily was to charm the invitations such that the date would automatically change and the parchment card alert the guest if they hadn’t leaked the information beforehand. Liz had suggested a tricky bit of magic to inform the Order if such a leak occurred, and Remus had added a powerful Silencing Hex for good measure – should anyone choose to disclose any information about the wedding, they would be immediately struck dumb. Sirius wanted to put in all sort of more vicious jinxes, but Frank decided that it might be too unforgiving on the few innocent invitees who were careless. 

The actual date was set for the thirtieth of August – close enough after the false one for the Death Eaters to have little time to prepare a new offensive and far enough to give the Order a little breathing space. 

‘And enough time to cancel the whole thing if our little ruse goes awry,’ said Elphias Doge, who was predisposed to pessimism. 

The invitations were all hand-delivered, to eliminate the possibility of any landing in Death Eater hands. 

‘What if one of the guests _is_ a Death Eater, just that we don’t know it?’ Benjy Fenwick pointed out. 

‘Then we’ll be sure to have an attack on the twenty-seventh,’ Caradoc Dearborn said. Since there were a hundred and fifty people to be notified, and only about twenty Order members, it meant a great deal of Apparating all over the country for everyone. 

Then they had to prepare the trap – it wasn’t so difficult, they had just to ensure that there were people dressed appropriately at the right place at the right time when the Death Eaters turned up. It was planned that the Order would present themselves as bait, along with as many Aurors as Frank and Moody trusted to include in the scheme. 

Besides all this, there were the usual problems of logistics, decoration and catering that accompanied any wedding – not to mention the extra security that would still be needed just in case. Sirius and Moody surveyed the proposed site, a wild Yorkshire moor that was strategically hidden from Muggle eyes as an old Quidditch ground for the villagers ought to be, and pronounced it well-suited for the occasion. 

Liz (and Lily, too, no doubt) set to work immediately, designing security charms specific to the site and occasion. The basic Shield Charm had to be amplified to cover the whole area; anti-Apparition warding was essential (Dumbledore promised to rig Portkeys for the event); emergency alarms had to be placed at intervals stretching out radially from the site … and once the girls had planned it all out, the other Order members were to cast the spells. Suffice to say, there was lots to do. 

James therefore found it very annoying to be awoken from the rare chance that he could snatch an afternoon nap by a loud _bam_ against the window. 

He cursed as he rolled out of bed, his hand instinctively grabbing his wand from the bed table. 

_BAM_. 

It was an owl: a minute, fluffy owl who had probably given itself a concussion, slamming against the window. James groaned and let it in, whereby it began to fly about the room, hooting at the top of its tiny lungs. 

‘Come here, you,’ said James irritably. The owl chirpily landed on his outstretched arm and he yanked the letter out of its talons. It was addressed using letters cut out from the headlines of the _Daily Prophet_ , pasted unevenly such that the letters ran up and down: **sIriUs BLaCk**. 

‘You got the wrong window,’ James told the bird after a quick Revealing Charm unearthed no mail hexes. The owl hooted softly, as if to say, _You can deliver it, then_. James grimaced at it ( _hoot_!) but went off to find Sirius anyway. 

Sirius was fiddling with his motorbike. He was lying on his back, a wrench in one hand and a screwdriver in the other, his wand between his teeth. 

‘Why don’t you just use magic?’ James wondered. 

Sirius made an indistinct noise. James reached for the wand in his mouth and removed it. 

‘A bike’s like a girl, mate. You’ve got to spend time with her.’ 

‘Right.’ He’d never seen Sirius expend this much effort on any girl. 

‘What’s brought you here, then? Thought you were napping.’ 

‘Bloody owl delivery got the wrong person; woke me up. Here –’ James shoved the letter in front of Sirius’s face. Sirius peered at it, glanced at his hands, which were full of grease and still gripping his Muggle tools, and then he shrugged. 

‘Looks like some anonymous shit. Can you read it –? Thanks.’ 

James slit the envelope with his wand and pulled out the letter inside. It was a simple piece of scrap parchment, torn off, by the look of the edges, and the message was written – or rather, pasted – in the same format as the name on the envelope. It was evidently a rushed job, as the sender had omitted punctuation, the letters were crooked, and some of them had fallen off, leaving holes in the middle of the words. 

**_hE kNO s thE cHArM bEwARe  hE w LL c Me_**

‘He?’ said Sirius when James had finished deciphering the letter’s contents. 

‘“He” is underlined. I’m betting Voldemort,’ said James grimly. It was easy enough to figure out the warning: beware of an attack. But what was the charm the message spoke about? 

‘Any idea what charm he’s talking about?’ asked Sirius. 

‘It’s addressed to _you_ ,’ James pointed out. ‘Shouldn’t you know?’ 

‘Couldn’t be something about the wedding, could it? Why would anyone send this to _me_? Why not Dumbledore – he’s the one with the spies.’ 

‘I s’pose he – if it’s a he, that is – trusts you to get it to Dumbledore? I really don’t know, Sirius. The best thing to do would be just that: give it to Dumbledore.’ 

There was a loud metallic clank as Sirius clicked one of his motorcycle parts in place. He put down his tools and inched out from under the bike. 

‘Well, she’s ready to go,’ he said, nudging his bike with his shoulder. ‘Do a Scouring Charm, will you? Ah, thanks.’ Hands _Scourgified_ , Sirius reached for the letter. ‘I’ll pay a visit to the school, then. Or wherever Dumbledore might be.’ 

‘I’ll come with you.’ James had a forbidding feeling about the message, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it. _What_ was the charm? 


	11. 11 All Hell Breaks Loose

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER ELEVEN:** **All Hell Breaks Loose**

_August, 1979_

Liz was acting rather oddly. Her face was drawn and tired, and her eyes darted to the door of the study in which they worked at least once every few minutes. She seemed unduly tense. 

‘Are you all right?’ Lily asked for the umpteenth time. 

‘Yeah.’ Liz rubbed at her forehead. ‘Just a little under the weather. Maybe I ought to pack it in earlier today.’ 

Lily agreed; Liz looked like she could do with a rest. It was likely that their hard work over the past few weeks had taken its toll on her as well. ‘Go ahead. I can manage in here.’ 

She knew, however, that something was very wrong when Liz, instead of going to the door, first crossed the room and began to deactivate the wards on the study. 

‘What are you _doing_ , Liz?’ Lily rushed forward and grabbed her arm. Liz shook her off impatiently and continued de-warding, her eyes strangely vacant. 

_Imperius_ , Lily realised in alarm. 

‘Stop! _Expelliarmus_!’ 

‘ _Protego! Crucio!_ ’ Liz reacted so fast that Lily barely dodged in time. It only cemented Lily’s assumption that Liz was under someone’s control, for she would never have thrown out an Unforgivable of her own free will. 

Liz was moving towards the corner table where they kept their research notes now, gathering them into her arms before heading for the door. Appalled, Lily cried, ‘ _Impedimenta!_ ’ 

_‘Protego!_ ’ 

‘Liz, don’t!’ pleaded Lily. ‘Snap out of it!’ 

A flicker of recognition flitted across Liz’s trance-like expression. She hesitated, as though afflicted with indecision. It was enough – Lily immediately cast a Stunner. The red beam of light hit Liz squarely in the chest and she crumpled to the ground. 

‘I’m sorry,’ said Lily shakily, as she bent over Liz’s prone form to retrieve the stacks of parchment. She dared not revive Liz – did the Imperius curse last if the victim were _Stupefied_ and then _Ennervated_? Lily didn’t think she wanted to find out the hard way. She couldn’t leave Liz this way, though; she should go get help. 

Her hand was inches away from the doorknob before it hit her with a horrible chill that it was highly possible that whoever had _Imperius-ed_ Liz was waiting for her to return. What if they had breached the Ollivander house – they could have made Liz let them in earlier – and were lying in wait just outside the study? 

But that left her little option. It was impossible to Apparate out of the study – anti-Apparition wards kept people out, but it unfortunately also kept them _in_. And the study had no other exit (or entrance) … unless she blasted her way out the window, which would destroy it, and possibly draw attention to herself anyway … 

Before she had time to contemplate this drastic measure, however, someone else made the decision for her. There was an almighty _boom_ , and a blast so strong from the wall with the window that she was thrown halfway across the room. Lily landed heavily on her back, unable to stop a painful yelp escaping her mouth. 

‘Well, then.’ The voice that filled the room was cold and high-pitched, like a blast of icy wind. ‘I see you’ve managed to overcome my loyal Death Eater – no, not Eurydice Ollivander, foolish girl, the loyal Death Eater who controlled her. But no matter. I am here to finish the job in person.’ 

‘You’re going to kill us.’ Fear tore at her insides, but her words came out clear and calm. 

Voldemort laughed – though Lily couldn’t imagine a sound less mirthful. ‘Not today, Lily Evans. Not today. I simply intend to break you. To have you spilling all your little secrets to me. Lily Evans, did you think that you, a mere Mudblood, could defy Lord Voldemort? I shall crush you, extract all knowledge of this pretty charm you are constructing, and then I shall destroy you. You will beg for death _then_ , and I shall reward you – as Lord Voldemort always rewards those who have been of use to him.’ 

‘You – you won’t – you’ll never get anything from me.’ Lily gripped her wand tightly. _Protego_ , she thought, in case Voldemort attempted to rip it from her hands with a non-verbal spell. 

‘Is that so?’ Voldemort eyed her keenly. Lily met his slit-like eyes defiantly. ‘No – I won’t deprive you of your wand – though it will not do you any good against me. You are no match for the greatest wizard of all time – _Crucio_!’ 

The speed and force of the spell left her no room to avoid. Red hot needles of pain blossomed across every square inch of skin, twisting, burning, searing … Could this possibly be the same curse she’d suffered before? It felt ten times worse … Lily’s throat was hoarse – she must be screaming, but she couldn’t hear it, through the pounding in her ears. It was a never-ending torment, lasting far longer than forever … 

She was flat on the ground, aching and panting as though she had run a marathon. Lily raised her head with immense difficulty. 

‘A taste, Lily Evans,’ said Voldemort in a silky voice, ‘of what you will endure, for much longer, should you refuse to co-operate.’ 

He was going to break her; torture her until she delivered every last thing he needed to know. Only then would he free her – through death. Lily’s first thought was that it was going to be a long, drawn-out and painful battle because she would never divulge even the slightest information on the Death Shield to Voldemort. Then a feeling of dread swept through her – she couldn’t be sure … what if she weakened? 

One thing was certain – Voldemort could not learn the details of Liz and her work. He would desecrate it, twist it to suit his own bestial purposes … Lily knew immediately what she had to do. 

Summoning her strength, she pointed her wand to the left of Voldemort – he sneered, thinking that she was already so addled as to misfire – and shouted, ‘ _Reducto!_ ’ 

The prototype model of the spell web that Lily and Liz had slaved over for two long years exploded. Voldemort was taken by surprise, stepping away from the blast in shock. He whirled back to Lily, but she had already set her notes on fire with the strongest _Incendio_ she could muster. Having destroyed all evidence of her own work, there remained but one thing – Lily pointed her wand to her own head, thought intently of deleting every last memory of the Death Shield from her mind, and said, simply, ‘ _Obliviate_!’ 

Voldemort’s rage was palpable. His snake-like slits of eyes narrowed even further, until they were like laser points staring out of his white face. With a swift flick of his wand, Lily’s flew across to him, and he tossed it aside, out of her reach. He towered over her, but she stared back, fearless now that she had nothing to lose. 

‘Memory Charms can be broken,’ said Voldemort, finally, twirling his wand in his long fingers. 

A second deafening _crash_ rang out as three new wizards burst in to join the fray. Lily realised with a jolt that they were wizards she knew – and one of them was a witch – Alice, Frank, and _James._

‘ _Expelliarmus!_ ’ they yelled in unison. Voldemort deflected it almost effortlessly, sending out the killing curse without skipping a beat. They dodged expertly, and it exploded against the wall. 

Alice reached Lily first. ‘I’ve got a Portkey – can you move? Get over to Liz –’ 

Painfully, Lily crawled over to where Liz was still lying, unconscious by Lily’s own hand. Alice extracted a wrapped object from her robes and removed the paper to reveal a copper spoon. She held it with the wrapping separating it from her fingers. 

‘Take it, you’ll be safe!’ 

‘But – you – James – Frank –’ 

‘Take Liz and _go_ ,’ commanded Alice. She pressed the Portkey to Lily and Liz’s hands and Lily felt the familiar jerk beneath her naval. She looked up by chance, before she was whirled away, and her eyes briefly met James’s. 

The last thing she saw was his hazel eyes locked on hers before an errant hex slammed him into a wall, and the room dissolved around her. 

~ * ~ 

Lily landed on a dirty, scratched and almost ripped-up wooden floor. She winced and struggled not to be sick as her surroundings came into sharper focus around her. 

She was in a rickety, run-down old shack that was vaguely familiar, and Professor McGonagall was peering at her and Liz with concern evident on her wrinkled face. 

‘Lily,’ she said, ‘has You-Know-Who …’ her voice trailed off anxiously. If the use of her first name hadn’t been enough to emphasise the severity of the situation – Lily had never heard Professor McGonagall address any student (or ex-student, in this case) by their first names – then her lapse into the anonym would have. 

‘Alice and Frank and James are still there, Professor,’ said Lily urgently. ‘I don’t know if they’ll …’ She couldn’t verbalise her fears. 

‘We can do nothing from here,’ Professor McGonagall said tersely. ‘We must pray they get themselves out. Meanwhile, I must escort you and Miss Ollivander up to the school.’ 

‘The school? Professor – where _are_ we?’ 

‘The Shrieking Shack,’ said Professor McGonagall briefly, before turning her attention to Liz. ‘ _Ennervate!_ ’ 

Liz sat up slowly, took in her environs, and promptly burst into tears. 

‘What have I done?’ she wept. 

‘It’s all right,’ soothed Lily. ‘It wasn’t your fault, you tried to resist.’ 

‘Miss Ollivander, Dumbledore is waiting for us in his office. Pull yourself together; we must go.’ 

It must have been nearly a decade since Liz had been a student at Hogwarts. Yet she obediently got up and swiped her eyes, evidently still as cowed by Professor McGonagall as a current student. 

Professor McGonagall led them through a dark, winding tunnel with a ceiling so low that Lily had to hunch over. It went on for a good twenty or thirty minutes before sloping upwards. Lily could hear strange thrashing noises above, as though millions of Hippogriffs were swooping through the air above. A thunderous thud on the tunnel ceiling made both her and Liz jump. Professor McGonagall, however, was unfazed. She produced a long stick and reached through a gap at the top of the tunnel, prodding around as though searching for a point. 

The noises stopped, suddenly, and Professor McGonagall pulled herself out of the tunnel.

‘Hurry,’ she said. Lily and Liz made haste to follow her. When they emerged, Lily realised they were on Hogwarts grounds, just under the Whomping Willow, which was miraculously still. But she had no time to marvel at this phenomenon, because Professor McGonagall was striding purposefully across the grounds, and she was clearly expected to follow. 

Dumbledore, as Professor McGonagall had mentioned, was in his office. He was in the midst of a discussion with Nicholas Lovegood when they entered. 

‘Miss Evans and Miss Ollivander got out safely,’ said Professor McGonagall. 

‘Thank you, Minerva,’ said Dumbledore warmly. ‘And the others?’ 

‘I hope they have had the opportunity to bail out, Albus. But there is no news yet – I can try to contact Mr Longbottom, or Mr Potter …’ 

She was interrupted by a low cry from Dumbledore’s phoenix. 

‘No need, Minerva. I believe Fawkes is willing to make the trip. Go, then,’ Dumbledore nodded to his bird. Fawkes vanished. 

‘Well then, Miss Evans, Miss Ollivander. I cannot stress how important it is that your work remains unavailable to Voldemort.’ 

Lily stared at him blankly. ‘What work?’ 

Three pairs of eyes fixed on her in shock. The fourth eyed her keenly. 

‘Lily …’ said Liz slowly. ‘Oh God, Lily, what happened to you?’ 

‘A Memory Charm,’ said Dumbledore sharply. ‘The problem is, who cast it? Lily, how much do you recall?’ 

‘I … I’ve no idea what we were doing. But Voldemort came and … I set the house on fire. I wanted to destroy something … I remember holding my wand at my head … and then Voldemort Disarmed me and the three of them – James, Alice, Frank – came with a Portkey …’ 

‘Indeed …’ Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. ‘I must say, I believe that was a stroke of brilliance from you, Miss Evans. If I’m not wrong, you’ve just deleted all evidence that you ever created your Shield Charm – even the knowledge of it. But Memory Charms are not a hundred percent foolproof. And Miss Ollivander still bears knowledge of your work, if I’m not wrong?’ 

Liz nodded apprehensively. ‘Ought I to _Obliviate_ myself as well?’ 

‘I may have an … alternative solution. Have either of you heard of the Fidelius Charm?’ 

‘The one that …’ Lily racked her brains, trying to recall her N.E.W.T. Charms text. Liz, however, was quicker. 

‘… hides information to be kept secret within a person?’ she finished. 

‘Precisely, Miss Ollivander.’ 

‘So you’re saying, we’ll have to hide the knowledge of our work … I’m sorry, Professor, I don’t really understand how this will work.’ 

‘Typically, the Fidelius Charm is used to conceal the whereabouts of people, but it can be modified to suit your situation. We can hide the information in a particular person – let us say, the _vector_ , hence the _location_ of this information can be held by a Secret Keeper. Am I making sense?’ 

Lily nodded. Liz looked thoughtful. 

‘So you want one of us to … be the _vector_?’ 

‘I would deem it the best course of action, as –’ 

He was interrupted by the arrival of Fawkes the phoenix, who returned to his perch in a fiery beam. He parted his beak to drop a ragged scrap of parchment in front of Dumbledore. Dumbledore held it up to read. 

‘Frank, Alice, and James have escaped,’ he said, with relief. Lily felt herself let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. ‘James is injured, though –’ she sucked in her breath again ‘– but nothing life-threatening,’ he finished. She exhaled. 

‘Where are they? Can I see him?’ 

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. 

‘Perhaps we can sort out the matter of the Fidelius first?’ Dumbledore suggested. Blushing, Lily nodded. 

‘I called upon Mr Lovegood once I heard of the attack, and he has agreed to act as Secret Keeper. He can also take you to safety now. Time, of course, is of the essence, if we are to settle this before Voldemort is able to make a second attack, hence I’m afraid I’ll have to ask both of you to make a decision now.’ 

Lily and Liz exchanged looks. 

‘What will happen to whoever’s … the vector?’ said Lily. 

‘You will go into hiding. In complete secrecy.’ 

Hiding – that meant disappearing without notice. Not contacting any of her friends, or family … she wouldn’t have the chance (slim though it was) to ever find Petunia. She wouldn’t find out what happened to _James_. 

He might even think she had died – what story would Dumbledore put out to explain her disappearance? 

Before she could weigh in the importance of such a drastic measure to their society, Liz volunteered, quietly but bravely. 

‘Lily’s Memory Charmed anyway,’ she said. ‘I – I’m the better choice.’ 

‘Liz … are you _sure_?’ Lily wasn’t keen on doing the job herself. But to allow Liz to take it upon herself … 

Liz nodded. ‘You can’t just disappear, Lily. Think of what James would say. I – I’ve no one to worry … except maybe my uncle … but he hardly pays attention to things outside his shop, so …’ She squared her shoulders. ‘I’m the one that has to go, Lily. Don’t stop me. Professor Dumbledore, I … what do I do?’ 

‘Miss Ollivander, you may leave with Mr Lovegood first. He will perform the charm, and let you know everything that you need to get to your destination.’ 

‘And my belongings – my old home –?’ 

‘I’ll see to it when it’s safer,’ promised Nicholas Lovegood. ‘If you’re ready – if there are no objections, we should be on our way. Professors, Lily.’ He nodded to each of them in turn before leading Liz out of the room. 

‘I’ll contact you if I can,’ Liz promised Lily. 

‘I know. Take care of yourself.’ The girls hugged. 

‘You too. Good-bye.’ And Liz disappeared down the spiral staircase of Dumbledore’s office after Nicholas. 

‘I should return to my lessons,’ said Professor McGonagall briskly. ‘Since you’ve everything under control, Albus …’ 

‘Yes, thank you, Minerva.’ 

When Professor McGonagall had left, Dumbledore turned back to Lily. His eyes smiled at her through his half-moon glasses. ‘I believe you’ll be waiting for news of Mr Potter, Miss Evans.’ 

She flushed again, unable to deny it. Seeing James there, charging in with Frank and Alice … it wasn’t just the relief that help had come, it was _James_. And then, when she’d seen him hit the wall with such force, just before the Portkey had whisked her away … 

She had to see him, be sure he was all right. 

‘We will wait,’ said Dumbledore, understanding, ‘until Frank or Alice sends word that it is safe for you to go. Would you like a lemon sherbet in the meantime?’ 

~ * ~ 

James’s first thought was that it had to be a dream. Everything was out of focus – he’d been feeling lethargic since he’d drunk the potion that Dorcas had given him, and it made things go blurry too. 

‘You need to _rest_ ,’ Dorcas admonished, shaking her head over him. ‘Frank – Alice – tell him!’ 

‘Lily’s fine, James,’ said Alice. ‘I gave her the Portkey myself. Stop _worrying_.’ 

How could he stop? He’d been feeling frantic from the moment they’d brought the anonymous message to Dumbledore and he’d deciphered it to mean a threat to Lily and Liz. They’d alerted the Order – Frank and Alice had responded immediately, and the three of them had charged to the scene while Sirius tried to gather more people. 

He couldn’t forget the sight of Lily, facing Voldemort without a wand, her eyes defiant. The entire room was up in flames, all her hard work ablaze – had she ignited it herself? – and she was obviously prepared to go down fighting. 

He needed to know that she _hadn’t_. That she was alive and well and she knew that he’d meant none of what he’d said two weeks ago because he’d come after all. 

What if the message hadn’t come? If they’d been a little later? Would he have arrived to find Lily crumpled and broken, and guilt that he’d been too proud to search her out when he’d had the chance sinking into his heart? 

‘James, _enough_!’Frank told him in no uncertain terms that he’d Body-Bind him to the bed if he wasn’t obedient. ‘You took a hard hit – that gash nearly split open your skull, Potter. You’ve got to recuperate. You need to know your limits – that’s the fundamental rule that every Auror has to understand!’ 

‘M’not an Auror,’ mumbled James, but his eyelids were drooping. Dorcas waved her wand and levitated him to the bed. 

There was a strange, lullaby-like music that accompanied him into his slumber. It gave everything a dream-like quality. So it was no wonder that he thought he was still dreaming when he heard the same melody. 

In the dream, he saw the faint outline of a slim lady with long hair. Her back was facing him, but he knew instantly that it was the one he had been waiting for all this while. 

And then he turned, and her features shone brightly against the blurred background, penetrating the haze in his mind. Bright green almond-shaped eyes, hair shining golden-red in the light, pale face scrunched up with worry. 

‘Lily,’ he said. ‘Is it really you?’ 

She was by his side at once, her hand light as a feather on his face. 

‘It’s me.’ 

‘You’re here,’ he managed drowsily, before blackness overcame him again. Dimly, he heard her voice: 

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ 

~ * ~ 

Fawkes had chosen to come with Lily. Dorcas was there when they arrived, explaining that James was fine, she’d given him a Sleeping Draught after patching up his wounds. He came to for a few seconds, enough to recognise her – although Dorcas reckoned it was possible he was having a lucid dream. She left Lily by the side of the bed. 

Lily was alone now, in the room. With James. He looked so peaceful, sleeping on his back, breathing quietly. One of his arms was drooping off the side of the bed. Lily found herself reaching for it, her small hands closing over his large rough one. 

They were so incredibly lucky. They should have died – _she_ might have died if Frank, Alice and James hadn’t come charging in when they did. The three of them could have died – she had no idea how they’d got away. Yet here they were, alive, with no lasting damage done. It was like being given a second chance at life. 

Lily looked down at James’s sleeping face, and her insides twisted with guilt. 

If he had died today, she would never have forgiven herself. She’d had two hours of interminable waiting in Dumbledore’s office to agonise over it. To search herself and realise that James was very much a part of her soul. She couldn’t have gone with Liz and Nicholas Lovegood to hide, without finding James first – because it would rip her heart in two if he’d died then, thinking that she didn’t care, that she was still angry with him. 

It was a bitter pill to swallow, the knowledge that she had been wrong about Petunia and James’s comments – _she doesn’t care about you_ – which had hurt her deeply, were the truth. She’d been so mad, thinking he had been selfishly wanting to keep her to himself so much that he’d slander Petunia. But maybe he had been right all along, painful as it was to accept. 

And James, despite all of it, had to care about her still. She’d seen it in his face, the blazing look of worry when they’d locked eyes earlier. That was the James that burned in her memory now and wouldn’t let go – James, who would endure sleepless nights to be by her side; James, who faithfully collected and read out her homework to her everyday following the Hogsmeade attack; James, who didn’t ask for anything in return for his dedication; James, who loved her. How could she have forgotten all of it? 

She could lose Petunia, she realised – she already had, and it hurt, but not as much as it did to almost lose James. 


	12. 12 A Beacon of Hope

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER TWELVE:** **A Beacon of Hope**

_August, 1979_

‘I, Frank Randolph Longbottom, take you, Alice Catherine Moody …’ 

No-one was listening to the wedding vows. Even Sturgis Podmore and Dorcas Meadowes, best man and maid of honour respectively, had their eyes trained towards the Portkey area. The audience was tense, waiting. 

‘If the Death Eaters don’t show after all, Frank and Alice may effectively be married twice,’ James tried to joke, to lighten the mood. 

‘I’m not sure if I really want them to,’ said Peter nervously. James assumed he meant the Death Eaters showing. 

Alice was halfway through her vows when the blast came. Not through the Portkey area, but from above their heads. There was a deafening _crack_ , followed by yells of pain as the Death Eaters attempted to Apparate their way in and were impeded by Lily’s Apparition barrier. Some had even Splinched, by the look of it. James caught sight of a flailing arm hanging in mid-air, and a masked head severed from its body. 

The ‘congregation’ (which was in fact just the Order and the seven Aurors that Frank and Moody had roped into the scheme) were on their feet immediately, wands out. When the first Death Eaters found their way through the Portkey area, they were ready. 

‘Get out of the way!’ yelled Marlene McKinnon, as bolts of green light accompanied the invading Death Eaters. 

‘ _Expelliarmus!_ ’ ‘ _Protego!_ ’ ‘ _Impedimenta!_ ’ ‘ _Stupefy!_ ’ The air was thick with flying hexes from both sides. But the Order had the upper hand, having prepared for this for months. They made short work of the attacking Death Eaters. Soon, the air around James ceased to sizzle with the intensity of a hundred curses going off at once. 

Then, strangely, the Death Eaters seemed to cringe and draw away, their eyes on the Portkey area. James narrowed his eyes, wondering if it was a ruse. 

He understood all too soon. Through the arch that was meant for the bridal procession appeared a face like alabaster, with blood-red eyes and slits for nostrils. The lipless mouth moved, and Voldemort spoke, in his cold, shrill voice. 

‘So, this is the secret organisation working behind my back.’ His long fingers smoothed his robes haughtily. With an almost imperceptible flick of his wand, he deflected a spell that Benjy Fenwick surreptitiously aimed at his back and sent a _Crucio_ back in return. Benjy howled worse than a werewolf as it hit. ‘Benjamin Fenwick,’ he acknowledged, almost in amusement. His eyes travelled the rest of the Order. ‘Marlene McKinnon. Why – James Potter, we meet for the third time. Sirius Black – your family awaits your return to our side, you know –’ 

Sirius spat at Voldemort’s feet. 

‘Manners, now, Black. I’m sure your parents must have taught you those. Ah – the Prewett brothers, am I right? Yes … yes … and the happy couple.’ Voldemort turned to Frank and Alice with a sneer. ‘So sorry to disrupt your wedding, but I’m sure you can continue it … under the sod …’ 

‘Your Death Eaters haven’t stopped us,’ said Edgar Bones. ‘Look at them –’ He didn’t have to gesture to indicate the Death Eaters who had been Splinched, _Stupefied_ or otherwise put out of action. 

‘You’re one against twenty,’ added Marlene. 

‘Oh, but I have made it clear – was the first lesson not enough, Mr Fenwick? _Crucio!_ – that there is no gathering in the wizarding world that can be held openly without my wrath being felt. Yes … I believe the fear I have wrought is sufficient.’ 

‘As always, Tom, you fail to understand that one can never govern effectively using fear.’ 

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Voldemort’s face, his red eyes narrowing such that they became mere slits as the calm voice of Dumbledore addressed him. 

‘I am Lord Voldemort,’ he hissed. 

‘You will always be Tom to me,’ said Dumbledore firmly. 

Voldemort seemed to swell in indignation – in that moment, he looked ridiculously like a pampered child (albeit with a face no child would ever have) ready to throw a tantrum. 

‘ _Reducto!_ ’ he screamed – everyone dodged out of the way as the curse blasted the arch, the altar and the seats all into dust. And then, Voldemort vanished. 

With their master gone, the Death Eaters scrambled to leave, but Dumbledore hooked them up with an invisible rod and drew them back. The Aurors took charge of them quickly, _Stupefying_ and binding them. James helped Benjy to his feet (‘Thanks, James – ow, that aches …’) 

‘I am sorry to be late,’ said Dumbledore. ‘I had business at the school. But it seems you were doing fine.’ 

‘You’re the only one he seems to have qualms about,’ frowned Elphias Doge. 

‘Such is the legacy of a Hogwarts teacher, Elphias,’ sighed Dumbledore, but he said no more on the subject. 

‘Let’s get this all cleaned up, shall we?’ suggested Lily. ‘We’ve only three days to redo everything!’ 

The rest of the Order chorused their assent. 

~ * ~ 

Lily felt a deep sense of satisfaction as she watched the wedding guests arrive. It was gratifying to see how much faith people were putting in them, just by attending. This wedding would be a success – they had hoodwinked Voldemort – nothing was going to ruin Frank and Alice’s happiness today. 

It was almost phenomenal, the way the Order had transformed the moor within three days into a magnificent garden for the wedding ceremony and reception. Marlene and Alice had worked painstakingly on the flowers, with help from Frank’s Aunt Enid, and a breath-taking array of spring blossoms filled the air with a lovely scent. Peter and Sturgis had repaired the damage done by the Death Eater attack, such that the furniture – the garden archway, the bridal altar, benches for the guests – were all back in tip-top condition. Benjy and Nicholas had conjured a tent-like building for the reception dinner and dance. Emmeline and Dorcas had taken care of all the organisation details and Edgar had mobilised every house-elf of the Bones’ connections to do the catering. Lily herself had worked industriously on strengthening her wards, charms and barriers, on which the security of the event depended. They were all invested in this wedding – its success would be the entire Order’s triumph. 

People all around Lily were greeting old friends with delight; it was not often that any socialising could take place in public nowadays, with the threat of Voldemort hanging over everybody’s head. Pleased that there was a chance now, Lily scanned the crowds for familiar faces from her own Hogwarts days. Her gaze fell upon that of Andromeda Tonks, who was here with her husband and daughter. 

‘Andy!’ Lily rushed over joyfully. She hadn’t seen Andromeda or Ted since they had eloped so many years ago, although she knew that Sirius and James had visited them on many occasions. And she’d never met their daughter, who was staring up at her with big grey eyes very like her mother and cousin’s. 

‘Hi.’ Lily squatted so that she was eye-level with the girl, and held out her hand, which the girl shook solemnly. 

‘My daughter, Nymphadora,’ said Andy. Lily deduced that Nymphadora didn’t like her name because she scowled and wrinkled her nose at her mother. She couldn’t really blame the little girl. Andy had chosen an elegant name – pretty in its own way, Lily supposed – but it was certainly a mouthful for this tiny snippet of a girl. 

‘I’m Lily. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ 

‘Say hello to Miss Lily.’ There was a slight emphasis on the ‘Miss’, a warning to little Nymphadora to be polite. 

‘Your hair is pretty,’ said Nymphadora admiringly. Lily couldn’t help smiling – wasn’t there a saying that fools and children spoke the truth? ‘Oh and hello!’ Nymphadora added this in hurriedly. ‘I like red hair,’ she continued. ‘I’d make mine red, only Mummy doesn’t want me to change it here.’ 

Change it? Lily instantly thought of Professor McGonagall and her Animagus form, then remembered there were such beings as Metamorphmagi as well. She complimented Nymphadora on her current hair colour (a mousy brown, like her father's) and asked if she was indeed such a one. 

‘What’s a Met-a-mor-may-jus?’ asked Nymphadora cautiously. 

Lily explained, as Andy acknowledged quietly that she was. 

‘Thankfully she only knows how to change her hair and nose now. I can’t think how it’ll be when she learns to control all of it – the rate she plays around with it, it’ll be like having a new daughter every day!’ 

‘That _would_ be interesting!’ agreed Lily. 

Nymphadora’s attention was diverted, however, by the approach of Sirius. He’d evidently abandoned his post (Moody, by way of complimenting Sirius and James, had insisted they help the Aurors guard the perimeters and review the security charms from time to time. The actual Aurors hadn’t been too happy about the intrusion) to come find his little cousin. 

‘Aren’t you supposed to be reviewing the security spells?’ Lily reminded him. She didn’t particularly want to be a kill-joy, but Moody could get quite sour with anyone shirking their duty. 

‘Had to come and say hi to my Dora,’ shrugged Sirius. ‘Got James to cover for me.’ 

Instinctively, Lily turned to look for a familiar crop of untidy black hair. She caught sight of him not far away, just behind the right corner of the altar and blushed faintly as he noticed her glance. There had been a strange awkwardness to their interaction since they’d made up over his sickbed, a shyness in the way James approached her. It made Lily feel as though she was in seventh year again, with his sweet, hesitant touches causing her heart to race and her stomach to flutter. It was almost as if she was anticipating something special, only she hadn’t any idea what. Luckily, Sirius was too busy playing with Nymphadora and a second distraction in the form of Remus had appeared, so no-one paid much attention to her. 

The guests had all arrived by now, and were crowding into the benches. 

‘I’d better get back to my post,’ said Sirius, saluting Nymphadora before he capered off. Lily remembered with a jolt that she was supposed to be taking over Dorcas’s shift watching the Apparition barriers during the ceremony as Dorcas was to be maid of honour. 

‘I think it’s about to start,’ she said. ‘I’d better run! It’s lovely to see you again, Andy – and to meet Dora.’ She winked in farewell to the little girl, who tried unsuccessfully to return the gesture, and hurried off. 

Doing guard duty didn’t allow her to watch the ceremony, but she could still hear Frank and Alice as they spoke their wedding vows, so clearly and devoutly that there were appreciative sighs from all the guests. Lily was surprised to behold her own vision blurring as she listened – tears of happiness for her old classmate and friend, but also of wistfulness: she found she was imagining herself and James in their place. 

Emmeline arrived to relieve her shift. 

‘The dance is starting up inside. Go get a spot of dinner while everyone’s dancing.’ 

Lily didn’t feel quite hungry, though. She thanked Emmeline and went for a walk along the twisting garden paths. The sun was starting to set, bathing the flowers in a glorious golden-red glow. 

‘You look like an angel with the sun over your head like that. Unfortunately, you know what they say about looks …’ 

It was James, teasing her. Thankful for his light bantering, Lily laughed and swatted at his shoulder. 

‘Prat.’ 

He chuckled and fell in step with her. ‘So you’ve said, a million and one times.’ 

‘You’ve counted, have you?’ 

‘Mm-hm.’ He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked around distractedly. Lily studied his face as he did so. He was nervous about something; his teeth pulled at a spot on his lip, there was a pinkish tinge to his face, and he blinked rapidly. 

‘Something wrong?’ 

James swivelled his head back quickly to face her. ‘Not … exactly …’ He scratched his head. ‘Actually … I never gave you your birthday present, you know.’ 

‘My birthday present?’ Her birthday had been nearly a month ago. It could have been a year ago, for all that had happened in that one month, actually. 

‘I – it … d’you remember what we did on that day?’ 

She certainly did. They’d gone for ice-cream at Fortescue’s and she’d seen Petunia – no, Drucilla Malfoy in Polyjuice disguise – and that entire horrid plot of Drucilla’s had started there. Lily went pink with embarrassment and guilt just thinking about it. 

‘I remember,’ she said softly. ‘We were at Fortescue’s … wasn’t that your treat?’ 

‘Not – not just that. I meant to tell you … well, I bought a house.’ 

‘You did?’ 

‘Yeah. I’ve been working on it the whole of last month … it’s not perfect, the interior’s got to be furnished and all, but it’s more or less ready to …’ His voice trailed off and he stopped walking suddenly. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse. ‘I wanted to ask you to …’ 

Lily suddenly knew what she had been waiting for, a question her heart had secretly been longing for, one that she wanted only to answer ‘yes’ to. Her heart was jubilant, singing like a phoenix. Why were her eyes filling up, then? 

James must have noticed, because he grasped her hands pleadingly. ‘Lily, I’m sorry, don’t cry … I won’t ask anything of you if it makes you unhappy!’ 

‘No, James,’ she told him as she fought back her tears. ‘It’s not … I’m not sad. I know what you mean, and I … James, honestly!’ Her head snapped up suddenly. ‘I _love_ you, you prat. Of course I’d want to … if you mean …’ 

James looked astounded. His hand reached out to caress her cheek as the tears escaped and rolled down. He wiped away a beady drop with his thumb. 

‘So … if I asked you … it would be a …’ His voice was so soft, it was like a gentle breath of wind. Lily pressed her face against his shoulder and nodded into it before he could complete his question. James drew her close, his arms encircling her waist. ‘I ought to ask properly, then,’ he whispered. Letting her go, he dropped down on one knee, clasping her hands tight. 

‘Lily,’ he said earnestly. ‘Marry me. Please.’ 

The tears were still rolling down her face, but as she bent forward to whisper, ‘Yes’ in his ear, and James pulled them both to their feet and kissed her as if there was no tomorrow, pausing only to say, ‘I love you,’ she knew without a shadow of doubt that these were tears of happiness. 

~ * ~ 

When the wedding had been concluded and the guests had gone, the Order ran around doing _Finites_ and _Evanescos_ on their conjured constructions. Before they could get rid of the garden, however, Alice stopped them. 

‘Oh, don’t Vanish it yet,’ she said. ‘Let’s take a picture first!’ 

It took some time to organise everybody and to set up Moody’s old camera on a tripod and time the shot. They beamed and waved as it flashed, sending purple smoke into the air. James, posing between Peter and Sirius, felt like life couldn’t be better. The wedding – the Order’s wedding; it wasn’t just Frank and Alice’s: everyone had invested themselves in it so much that it was personal to all of them – had been pulled off with aplomb. He himself had another wedding to look forward to, and his bride-to-be standing next to Peter, looking radiant. The day couldn’t get any more perfect. 

‘You must give me the photograph when you’ve developed it, Uncle Alastor,’ said Alice fervently. ‘A picture of everyone here – everyone who put in this effort! I’ll want to remember it always; Frank and I will be forever grateful to all of you for what you’ve done.’ 

‘Nonsense,’ said Gideon Prewett. ‘Everyone had a good time.’ 

‘And it’s for the greater good – to remind old Voldemort we’re free to celebrate if we want to!’ added Fabian Prewett. 

The last rays of sunlight were fading into the west, light that had shone over them as they had proved a point today: Voldemort had _not_ taken over, nor cowed them completely. 


	13. 13 War Weary

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN:** **War Weary**

_September – October, 1979_

Voldemort set out to punish the Order for their audacity; the glimmer of hope Alice and Frank’s wedding had brought into existence was brutally quashed barely two weeks later when the Order suffered their first casualty at the hands of Death Eaters. 

It had started out as a family reunion. It had ended, however, in the mass murder of the entire McKinnon clan – including Marlene McKinnon, whose loss hit the Order squarely in the face. As a mark of respect, Lily and James decided to postpone their own wedding. To hold it when they were all reeling from Marlene’s murder seemed far too callous. 

Shortly after, Dumbledore approached Lily with an appeal: would she come to Hogwarts ostentatiously to work as a Brewster, as well as to provide the school with extra security? 

Having felt rather out of sorts since Voldemort’s attack – there had still been no word from or about Liz or Nicholas Lovegood yet, and Lily could only hope that no news was good news – Lily wondered if Dumbledore was simply offering her a place to hide. 

‘You are a most astute young woman, Miss Evans,’ said Dumbledore when she mentioned this, ‘but I assure you that while your safety is a concern, I would also feel more secure if I had several members of the Order guarding the school. Hogwarts is the stronghold that Voldemort has always coveted, and I am quite convinced that before long, he will attempt to infiltrate it. 

‘In any case, you will not be the only Order member that I ask to help out.’ 

Abashed, Lily agreed, and thus commenced her days of potion-brewing in the draughty dungeons of Hogwarts. She made antidotes to the nastier poisons they might encounter, invigorating draughts to strengthen, dull pain, and help an Order member in any trouble withstand an injury for long enough to escape, serums to investigate and infiltrate – she spent one month toiling over _Veritaserum_ and another on Polyjuice Potion, under complete secrecy, since both were restricted. She even tried her hand at Felix Felicis, but that was one potion that proved beyond her capabilities. 

Dorcas, between her training as a Healer, provided other minor brews: medicinal potions, sleeping draughts. Together, she and Lily amassed a formidable collection for the Order. Had they turned it in to anyone but Dumbledore, Lily might have been anxious that it fall into the wrong hands. However, Dumbledore kept the store safely, and Lily trusted him. 

Professor Slughorn, who often asked Lily to help him prepare examples for his lessons (she acquiesced, thinking that being Slughorn’s assistant would make a good cover story if anyone got suspicious), was delighted to have her. 

‘I always said you were a genius with Potions,’ he said, beaming genially. ‘You could go a lot further than being my humble assistant, now – you should certainly consider joining the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers! I’d be happy to provide you an introduction. In fact, some of them might come to my Hallowe’en party – the door’s always open to you, of course.’ 

Slug Club functions had always been a chore necessitated by Slughorn’s badgering, and Lily had half a mind to plead a prior commitment. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of anywhere she’d like to go – James was again all over the country (and even out of it) these days, chasing down Death Eaters for the Order. At the moment, she believed they were tracking down the one responsible for the McKinnon murder. 

Furthermore, it was probably a good idea for her to go and keep her eyes open for any suspicious characters that Slughorn might have naïvely invited into the school. She doubted that Slughorn would have intentionally welcomed anyone with Death Eater connections, but he certainly wasn’t the best judge of character, and it wouldn’t have been too hard for a student with conflicting loyalties to fool him. 

The party started out as boring as every other that Lily had attended over the course of her school years. Slughorn had magically expanded his office (or rather, Lily had done the charming), but it was still something of a tight squeeze for twenty-five or so people. Slughorn spent twenty minutes waxing poetic about Lily’s brewing abilities to Hector Dagworth-Granger of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, a tall, weedy-looking man with a grey beard and a scowling face. She stood there, nodding politely as Dagworth-Granger sized her up critically, but she barely heard a word of the exchange as she was busy taking note of the other guests. 

About fifteen were students, mostly fifth year and above, although several looked to be in second or third year. Of the adult guests, Lily recognised a few: Phyllida Spore, who had been several years ahead of her; Finbar Quigley and Ludo Bagman, the two famous Beaters who had been responsible for Hufflepuff’s legendary Quidditch win during Lily’s first year; Barty Crouch, the son of the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, who should be fresh out of Hogwarts now. Professor McGonagall popped in and out – likely to keep an eye on things as well. Lily wandered among the guests, chatting lightly about Quidditch with Quigley, catching up with Phyllida’s new job, exchanging platitudes with Barty Crouch. It didn’t seem as though anyone potentially dangerous had come … until Lily saw Regulus Black. 

He was standing quietly in the corner, his dark hair and black robes blending so unobtrusively into the shadows that Lily might not have noticed him had the glass he was twisting nervously in his hands not caught the firelight. She simply observed him first, not wanting to let on that she’d discovered him. His face was drawn and pale, a look Lily had seen on Sirius only once before, when the Marauders had got themselves into a deep spot of trouble in sixth year – which had also coincided with the time that Sirius had left home, if she remembered correctly. Regulus paid no attention to her; Lily wasn’t even certain if he had noticed she was there. His eyes flickered to Slughorn every few moments, and his fingers fidgeted with his empty glass every time he did so. 

Had he been sent as a spy, afraid of being found out? A sentinel to sneak into the school and open the doors to other Death Eaters, waiting for the opportune moment? Or an assassin with a mission to murder Horace Slughorn? Or even McGonagall or Dumbledore? 

Lily thought, however, that whatever the reason for which Regulus had been deployed to Hogwarts, she was witnessing him getting cold feet. She fingered her wand in her pocket, the memory of Regulus Black holding it out to her rushing to the forefront of her mind. 

He could likely be a Death Eater. But if he was … was he really that deep in it … or was he having second thoughts? 

As Lily pondered this, Regulus finally seemed to make up his mind. Setting his jaw in a determined manner, he left his glass on a nearby tray and set off across the room, through the crowd of people, towards Slughorn. Lily quickly followed. 

‘Young Regulus!’ boomed Slughorn. ‘How wonderful to see you! Did you just arrive? Have you seen Barty, now – he’s here, too –’ 

‘We came together,’ interrupted Regulus. ‘Professor, I was wondering …’ 

‘Well, you’re just in time for the last toast … before I have to send you all off. Join us, won’t you?’ Slughorn pressed a smoking goblet into Regulus’s hands before he had time to object, and called for attention. ‘It’s getting late, now, and the young scalawags have to be in bed soon,’ he chortled and winked at his students, ‘so I’d like to call for one last toast!’ 

‘Hear, hear!’ said Ludo Bagman heartily, raising his glass. 

‘To talent – which all of you possess in spades! To youth!’ (Hector Granger-Dagworth scowled a bit deeper at this.) ‘And to the end of the dark days!’ 

Professor McGonagall arrived at the door after they had drunk to Slughorn’s toast, on the pretext of making sure that the students went to bed. Lily would have gambled her wand that Professor McGonagall had followed the guests out rather than police the students. 

With Professor McGonagall keeping an eye on the outsiders, Lily stayed a moment to help Slughorn reverse the expansion charms on his room. She had only left the room and gone halfway down the corridor when her ears caught the soft creak of an opening door. She turned just in time to see a student slip into the office. 

Suspicious, Lily tiptoed back to the door and put her ear to it. 

‘– can I do for you?’ she heard Slughorn say. 

The reply was soft and difficult to make out. ‘I need some help with something I’m studying,’ she thought it was. 

It all seemed quite innocent, and Lily was about to leave Slughorn and his student be, when he said, ‘You’ve gone into research, have you, Regulus?’ 

Alarmed, Lily pressed her ear to the door again in a hurry. 

‘In a way, Professor.’ 

‘Well, ask away, boy. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be the best person to ask if it isn’t something to do with Potions, but I can always find you a reference.’ 

‘It’s … it’s about … Professor, what can you tell me about …’ Regulus’s last word was so soft that Lily couldn’t make head or tail of it. 

There was a long silence. Lily waited with baited breath, wondering if she should enter and attack; had Regulus immobilised Slughorn? He couldn’t have killed him, surely – the Death Curse, thankfully, didn’t work without the words. 

‘Professor?’ 

When Slughorn finally spoke (and Lily let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding), it was in a low, monotonous voice which she’d never heard from him before. 

‘I know nothing. What makes you think I’d know something about _that_?’ Lily didn’t think he was fooling anyone. Whatever information Regulus wanted, Slughorn had it – but didn’t want to give. 

_And for good reason_ , she thought. Except she wasn’t sure Slughorn had any inkling that Regulus was a Death Eater. There had to be another reason Slughorn was withholding information. 

‘I was told you would know …’ 

‘Well, you were told wrong, then, weren’t you?’ Slughorn roared suddenly. ‘I know nothing! _Nothing!_ ’ 

‘Please, sir –’ 

‘Which side are you on?’ said Slughorn, sounding frightened. 

_OK, time to go in_. Lily pushed the door open … and nearly lost her balance as Regulus wrenched it open from the other side. They paused for a moment in the doorway, staring at each other, and then Regulus pushed past her and started running down the corridor. 

‘Stop!’ Lily was after him in a flash, pelting down the corridors. Regulus was quicker than her, though, and she didn’t dare to throw a spell in case it glanced and hit a stray student out past curfew. She managed to tail him to the front doors, where McGonagall was seeing off the last of the guests. He burst through and high-tailed it out of the school, a quick _Protego_ deflecting the Stunner that Lily sent after him. 

‘Miss Evans –?’ 

‘Regulus Black, Professor,’ panted Lily. ‘He stayed behind to ask Professor Slughorn –’ 

‘Good heavens, is Horace all right?’ 

‘I think so,’ said Lily between breaths. ‘We’d better – go check.’ 

The door to Slughorn’s office was locked when they returned. Professor McGonagall rapped smartly on it, but there was no reply. She and Lily exchanged worried looks. 

‘Professor Slughorn!’ called Lily. ‘Professor, are you there?’ 

‘Everything’s fine!’ Slughorn’s voice was muffled. ‘Going to bed.’ 

‘Horace!’ said Professor McGonagall sharply. ‘Open the door, please.’ 

There was a scuffling noise, followed by the sound of shoes dragging across the floor and the click of the door unlocking, and Slughorn popped his head out of the room. He looked vastly dishevelled, and his face was red and sweaty. 

‘Sir, is everything all right?’ 

‘Yes, fine – nothing to worry about, Miss Evans,’ said Slughorn breathlessly. ‘Evening, Minerva. I was just about to turn in. Some party, wasn’t it, Miss Evans? Good night.’ He made to close the door, but Professor McGonagall stopped him. 

‘You gave me detention once when I was a first-year, Horace. What was it for?’ 

‘Blimey, Minerva, you can’t think I’m not _me_ , can you …’ His voice trailed off as Professor McGonagall raised her wand. ‘All right, Albus allowed me, since I was the one who caught you with the broomstick you weren’t supposed to have …’ 

Professor McGonagall nodded crisply, and Lily couldn’t help gaping as she tried to imagine the stern Transfiguration teacher as a first-year student smuggling a broom into the school. 

‘May I come in, Horace? I need to talk to you about your little parties.’ 

‘Well … it’s rather late, Minerva, I’m sure … couldn’t this wait until tomorrow … oh, very well. Good night, then, Miss Evans.’ 

McGonagall gave Lily a brief nod to indicate that she could go, so Lily bade Slughorn good night and left, wondering exactly what Regulus Black had been up to, and what information had Slughorn been withholding. 

That night, she dreamt that Sirius had Regulus at wand-point and was demanding him for information. 

‘I was told you knew about the Death Eaters,’ said Sirius dangerously. 

‘I know nothing,’ insisted Regulus, and he pointed a finger at Slughorn, who appeared suddenly, standing in a shadowy corner. ‘Ask him, he knows!’ 

‘You’re _wrong_!’ shouted Slughorn. 

James stepped forward, out of the darkness and said righteously, ‘They killed Marlene.’ 

‘I know nothing!’ said Regulus, sounding panicky. He held up his wand – which no one had removed, somehow – and waved it wildly. Green light exploded in all directions, and Lily saw James flying backwards, his eyes wide and his mouth a round ‘O’. 

‘James!’ she cried, and his face changed into Marlene’s. 

‘Help me,’ she pleaded. 

And she disappeared into the darkness, and suddenly, Lily was alone. 

When she woke up the next morning, it was to the surprising news that Slughorn had abruptly packed up and resigned. 

‘He believes the Death Eaters are after him, and has elected to go into hiding away from the school,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Minerva tells me that you might know something of what prompted him to jump to this conclusion.’ 

Lily explained about Regulus Black. Dumbledore listened with a thoughtful expression. 

‘And you have no idea about what information Regulus was pressing Horace for?’ 

‘I’m afraid not, Professor. I couldn’t hear. I don’t suppose he told you …?’ 

‘Horace told me very little,’ sighed Dumbledore. ‘Thank you, Miss Evans. I appreciate –’ 

A loud cough from one of the portraits hanging on the walls interrupted him. Dumbledore turned to it questioningly. 

‘Sorry to interrupt, Albus,’ said the grey-haired man in the picture apologetically, ‘but the Longbottoms need to speak to you urgently, and Alice Longbottom would like to make a Floo call.’ 

‘Thank you, Dominic,’ said Dumbledore. He pointed his wand carefully at the fire in his office. ‘You may inform her that she will be able to get through now.’ 

Moments later, Alice’s round, wide face appeared in the fire, looking drawn, tired, and miserable. 

‘Professor Dumbledore,’ she said. ‘It’s … yesterday night … he – Voldemort –’ A sob tore out of her throat and she ran a hand across her face. Lily felt her muscles tense up, anticipating the worst. 

_Please, not an attack. It_ can’t _be …_

Alice took a deep breath and stared up at Dumbledore with hollow eyes. 

‘He’s murdered Dorcas,’ she said heavily. 


	14. 14 Holding on to Home

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN:** **Holding On to Home**

_November, 1979_

James’s eyes immediately searched for Lily the moment he entered the Longbottom’s house. He spotted her sitting with Alice in the parlour, with her arm around her friend’s shoulders. Alice was crying into a handkerchief, and Lily, though she was patting Alice’s back soothingly, didn’t look any less grief-stricken. 

Sorrow washed through him as well. Dorcas Meadowes had been – the finality of the past tense made him freeze – their schoolmate, their friend. She had been training to be a Healer – to _help_ people, for heaven’s sake! The Meadowes family was pure-blood. 

There could be no other reason except for the one that had got Marlene and her family killed: Dorcas had been a member of the Order. 

And it could have been any one of them. 

Voldemort could have gone after Frank and Alice – the latter of whom was weeping on the couch, having lost her best friend. He could have done away with Peter or Remus. Or it might have been Lily who had been killed – as she’d almost been several months ago. 

James’s fist clenched involuntarily at this thought. Not Lily. It could never be – it must never be Lily. 

‘Potter.’ Frank Longbottom clapped a hand on his shoulder. They exchanged grim looks and James felt sure that Frank must be feeling the same way as he did now, only about Alice. But unlike Lily and him, Frank and Alice were married – he could be with her, to protect her always … 

The way James wanted to do for Lily. 

He nodded to Frank and approached the two bereaved women. Lily looked up at him with heavy eyes. 

‘I’m scared, Lily,’ Alice was saying, her words thick with tears. ‘And with this little one inside, too … if we’re next …’ 

‘Shh,’ said Lily. ‘We’ll all look out for each other –’ 

‘The way we looked out for Dorcas and Marlene?’ said Alice bitterly. ‘We failed them, Lily.’ 

‘No,’ James said. ‘If you want to blame someone, that’s Voldemort.’ 

Frank stepped forward and took his wife’s hand. ‘James is right, Alice. Stop blaming yourself.’ 

Alice sighed. ‘I know. I just wish … if only we’d known to …’ 

Lily moved away from her and came to James as Frank embraced Alice. She took his hand and inclined her head slightly towards the door. He took the hint and led her out of the room. 

‘Alice, love …’ he heard Frank say softly, and then they were outside, closing the door behind them. 

‘Are you all right?’ he asked with concern. Lily didn’t say anything, but she leaned forward against him and sighed deeply. He settled his arms around her. 

‘Do you want to go ho – back to Hogwarts?’ He remembered in time that she was staying at the school. 

‘I hate this war,’ Lily whispered. Her voice cracked and James realised that she was crying. ‘First Marlene, and now Dorcas … I mean, we all knew it could happen, but now that it has …’ Lily reached up to brush her hand roughly across her eyes. ‘I’m tired, James. I just want to … to go home.’ Her lip trembled and she bit it so hard that blood came. ‘I don’t even have that any more …’ 

‘You’ve got me.’ James tightened his hug and kissed her gently on the forehead. There was one place they could go … which wasn’t home yet, but could be, if they were married soon. 

He Apparated them to the house at Godric’s Hollow. 

~ * ~ 

Lily felt the familiar squeezing sensation of Apparition, which, when combined with her sobbing, left her gasping for air when she and James arrived at their destination. Through a blur of tears, she discerned that they were in a somewhat familiar house smelling of new paint and wood. She detached herself from James’s arms and tried to pull herself together. Where were they? 

‘James, where –?’ 

‘Godric’s Hollow,’ he said softly. ‘I brought you … home.’ 

_Home_. The tears spilled out of her again. He’d brought her home – this was the home he wanted to give her … _he_ was the family she wanted to have … 

She stepped back into his arms and tilted her mouth up to him, wanting to fall into him. James responded by cupping her face in his hands and kissed her so deeply that she thought she could release every fear, every anxiety, every emotion that had been plaguing her and he would absorb it and renew her. 

He must have steered her out of the hall at some point, because she found herself on a bed, James hovering above her. One of his hands found its way up her robes, running along her bare skin. He moved his mouth to her neck, eliciting a soft moan from her as he left a trail of kisses dangerously close to the edge of her collar. Then he stopped, and raised his mouth to the side of her face. 

‘You’re home,’ he told her, his warm breath grazing her ear. 

~ * ~ 

Lily awoke to a strange sense of security. It wasn’t the soft sunlight spilling through the gaps in the blinds; nor was it the fact that she felt warm and snug despite it being November. 

This was a unique feeling of wholeness – she felt complete. 

James was sleeping next to her, his long limbs sprawling messily over his side of the bed, his mouth hanging open slightly, his messy hair sticking out in all directions. Lily smiled to herself as she slipped out of bed and into her robes, which had been discarded on the ground sometime last night. 

The moment she left the bed, the events of the previous night came rushing back to her like a cold wind: Alice’s face in Dumbledore’s fire, pale and scared; crying on the Longbottoms’ couch; James arriving, anxious and worried … 

Dorcas was dead. Lily’s mind couldn’t seem to hold on to that slippery fact. Even after she’d comforted Alice and broken down in James’s arms, she still almost believed that she could go to St Mungo’s now and ask for Healer Meadowes, and Dorcas’s dark head would pop out of a ward … 

She remembered feeling the same eerie disbelief after Marlene had been killed, too. 

_It’s truly begun_ , she thought with a chill. Voldemort had finally found them, and he was after them with a vengeance. _All_ of them – the members of the Order of the Phoenix, who had thwarted him this long already. 

And he probably wouldn’t stop at Marlene and Dorcas. 

Lily’s eyes drifted automatically to James’s sleeping form. She couldn’t begin to imagine him being gone. Last night, there had been a kind of intense desperation between them – the unspoken message, _I need you_ , loud in their actions. 

She needed James – to be here, with her, to make their own home, to wake up next to him every morning and feel a sense of calm and safety that only he could give, even in the face of war and tragedy. She’d known for a long time that she would be heading down that path; James had already proposed, months ago. Now, however, she realised that she couldn’t wait any longer. 

~ * ~ 

Their wedding was a small affair. Only five people had been present – Sirius, who stood as best man, Remus, Peter, and the Longbottoms. Lily had wanted to contact her sister, but Dumbledore had reminded her about the agreement they had made with Petunia. Lily hadn’t been too happy with Dumbledore about this, and he had (quite wisely, in James’s opinion) not made an appearance. 

James couldn’t quite remember much about the actual ceremony. It seemed like a dream from which he could awaken at any time – except Sirius kept giving him very painful pinches to prove it was reality. All he knew for sure was Lily’s emerald eyes smiling at him, although her mouth was held in a nervous line. 

The strength of the love in her eyes on their wedding day still buoyed James up a week later, as he and Sirius stumbled wearily into the Muggle pub where Remus and Peter were waiting for them. He’d just spent the whole day away, chasing down Roland Travers, whom they believed to be responsible for the McKinnon murder, with Sirius and Edgar Bones, and he was planning on staying out the rest of the night, too. 

It was a full moon, after all. They’d missed so many moons with Moony since leaving school for James to feel guilty enough to want to make it up whenever he could, no matter how tired he was. This time, however, his sense of responsibility to Lily was also bugging him. They were married now – she’d be expecting him home, although he’d told her not to wait up if he hadn’t finished. She would be worrying about him, thinking he was still out tailing Death Eaters, when he was actually relatively safe. As safe as running around, as a stag, with a werewolf could be, at any rate. 

‘James,’ said Remus. ‘What are you doing here?’ 

‘What do you mean?’ 

‘Shouldn’t you – don’t you have to be home?’ 

‘We’re staying with you tonight, Remus,’ James said firmly. 

‘I don’t like this …’ began Remus, but Sirius cut him off. 

‘Stop it, Moony,’ he said. ‘We’ve missed enough moons.’ 

‘ _I’ve_ been here,’ said Peter. 

‘Yes, but fat lot of help you’ve been.’ Peter scowled at Sirius’s retort. ‘Just look at you, Moony. You’re all worn down – why won’t you admit you need us?’ 

‘I’m not your obligation, Sirius,’ said Remus evenly. ‘And James – just what are you telling Lily about your whereabouts?’ 

His conscience gnawed at him as he said, ‘She probably thinks … I’m still tracking Travers.’ 

‘You’ve barely been married a week, James. Are you going to start lying to her already, on my account?’ 

‘It won’t really hurt her if she doesn’t know, will it?’ said Peter. 

‘I’m not lying to Lily, I – damn it, I’ll … but we’re staying tonight, Moony. Tomorrow, I can … tell her the truth. If you – I mean, it’s _your_ furry little secret I’d be letting slip, if I were to …’ 

Remus let out a long sigh. ‘You can tell her, James.’ 

‘Enough discussion,’ said Sirius impatiently. ‘Let’s get going.’ 

Remus cast a glance at the sky, where the moon was due to rise any moment, and shuddered. Then they left the pub to Apparate to Sirius’s back yard, to transform. 

~ * ~ 

The weather outside seemed to match the dark days. It was night now, the howling wind outside whipping tree branches around in a frenzied storm. Even the full moon shining brightly offered no comfort; tonight it was an eerie blood-red moon. Shivering, Lily drew closer to the fireplace. She sat cross-legged on the hearth, letting the burning fire warm her hands. But even the warmth and cosiness of her little house couldn’t drive away her pervading fear. 

James – James was out there now; he’d been gone all day long, and the longer Lily waited, the sicker with fear she felt. It was almost torturous to just sit at home and wait, her stomach growing queasier with every passing second. Lily wondered why she felt so horrible now; it wasn’t as though James hadn’t gone on missions in the past. Was it because they were now married, that she was much more worried? The clock chimed ten, eleven, midnight, and still James did not come. The anxiety was contorting her intestines into painful knots. She was going to be sick – 

Lily had to run for the bathroom as her stomach gave a sudden lurch. She just managed to get through the bathroom door before the contents of her lunch – the last meal she’d eaten; she’d felt too nauseous to eat at dinner-time – splattered all over the tiled floor. 

It was several minutes before Lily stopped retching, during which she crouched on all fours, panting and heaving. When her stomach finally settled down, she backed onto her knees and leant back against the bathroom wall, feeling exhausted and miserable. She wanted to cry, wanted James to come back and hold her and tell her that everything was all right. 

Then she pulled herself together. James was out fighting a war; the least she could do was stop acting like a baby. Lily got to her feet shakily and set to work cleaning away her sick. When she had Vanished it all and cast a good _Scourgify_ on the floor, she made her way back to the living room and collapsed in an armchair. It was almost one in the morning – she should go to bed; James had told her as much, too: ‘If I’m late, don’t wait up, just go to bed,’ he’d said before kissing her good-bye. But she couldn’t bear to go to bed alone. 

‘ _Accio!_ ’ she said, Summoning the blanket from their room. It flew out of the room and landed neatly in her lap. 

Curling up in the armchair, Lily wrapped the blanket around herself and proceeded to wait for James. 

~ * ~ 

Lily realised several hours later that she had given in to exhaustion after all when she felt a hand stroke her head gently and she opened a bleary eye. James smiled down at her tenderly. 

‘I thought I told you not to wait up.’ 

‘I couldn’t sleep –’ She realised halfway that this didn’t make sense and broke off, laughing. A glance out of the window revealed that last night’s storm had blown itself out. It was replaced by a frosty dawn that was just as chilly, but although her hearth fire had burned itself out, Lily felt warm all over – relief was flooding through her: James was back; he was safe; there was nothing to worry about now. 

‘Did everything go fine? Is everyone all right?’ 

James nodded tiredly. There were deep rings under his eyes – _poor boy; he’s been up all night_ , thought Lily, feeling a twinge of guilt for having dozed off before the fire. 

‘We tailed Travers all the way to Argyllshire – almost lost him in the moors – he met up with a couple of Death Eater pals there and when they got wind that we were there, they sent out a whole set of nasty jinxes, but only Edgar got hit – Impediment Jinx, he’s all right now, don’t worry – and Sirius got Travers with _Levicorpus_ – handy spell, that one – so we’ve got him.’ 

‘Did you find out if he’s really responsible for – for Marlene?’ 

‘I don’t know. Moody took him in to the Ministry for questioning.’ James finished his sentence with a yawn. Lily patted his arm. 

‘You must be horribly worn out. Let’s go to bed.’ 

James shook his head. ‘No, Lily, I need to tell you something first.’ 

She blinked twice in surprise. ‘Is anything wrong?’ 

‘Not – not exactly. It’s just something … well, something you ought to know, and I ought to have told you before we – well, I’m really sorry I never told you earlier, but …’ He was fidgeting, twisting his fingers awkwardly. Lily felt some of yesterday’s chilling anxiety return. 

‘Has it to do with the war, James?’ 

‘No – no, not at all. Lily, I – OK, just listen, all right? I – I’m not sure how to start.’ He stared out of the window as though contemplating how to phrase his next words, and Lily felt like prompting him, but decided she had better just be patient and let him continue at his own pace. Finally, he said, ‘I’m sorry you stayed up waiting for me, Lily. I wasn’t really out that late going after Travers.’ 

This was a shock. ‘You weren’t?’ 

James shook his head. ‘I was with – Remus.’ He paused to let this sink in. It was a moment before Lily realised the implications of this statement. 

Remus was a werewolf. If James had been with him, did that mean … Lily felt sick to her stomach again at the very thought. It wasn’t that she had any problem with lycanthropy – she liked Remus, and the fact that he became a wolf once a month bore little importance to the person he _was_. And of course she would still love James even if he was one too … but how could James have failed to tell her? Lily felt betrayed, to have been left ignorant of such an essential detail. 

‘James, you’re –’ 

‘An Animagus,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I never told you, but it was because of Remus – and then it wasn’t just my secret; there was Sirius and Peter to consider as well –’ 

‘You’re not a werewolf?’ Her voice sounded a pitch too high. 

‘A werewolf? Lily, no – of course not, I’d have told you if I were – no, I’m a stag.’ 

‘A stag,’ she repeated dully. 

‘Yes. Yesterday we – Sirius and Peter and I were with Remus, when he – transformed. I realised after that I ought to have told you in case you worried, so I asked them for permission to let you in on the secret – well, you already know about Remus, but the full explanation incriminates Sirius and Peter too.’ 

‘Incriminates … you’re an _illegal_ Animagus … and so are they!’ 

‘Wait – before you get mad, Lily, hear me out, all right? We wanted to do something for Remus, you know, when we found out about his – well, that furry little problem of his. So we became Animagi, so we could stay with him during full moons, because werewolves are ok with animals, and if we were with him, we could stop him attacking and hurting himself in the Shack – the Shrieking Shack,’ he added, seeing her blank look. ‘That’s where he went during full moons at Hogwarts.’ 

‘You did this during Hogwarts?’ 

‘Er – yeah. Fifth year.’ A little pride crept into his voice. ‘All three of us.’ 

He had been an illegal Animagus since fifth-year. Lily was shocked into speechlessness. When she finally found her voice, it came out in a croak. 

‘And you kept this a secret from …’ 

‘From everyone, Lily. You’re the only one who knows now!’ 

‘I’m supposed to feel honoured, am I?’ Fury was replacing astonishment as the thought struck her that she had been waiting, worrying, all last night for nothing after all. 

‘Lily, you’ve got to understand, it wasn’t just my secret – I couldn’t just betray Remus, right?’ 

‘Aren’t you, now?’ 

‘I asked him, and he said I could tell you –’ 

‘And what was preventing you from asking him _earlier_ , so you could at least let me know before I stayed up waiting for you, _worried to death_ because I thought you were still out fighting Death Eaters!’ Every torturous fear that had tormented her as she waited last night was resurfacing as anger now. 

‘I – I didn’t think, Lily – the last moon was weeks before the wedding and it didn’t really cross my mind until last night and then there wasn’t time to ask them and come back first –’ 

‘You _didn’t think_. Damn it, James, you just forgot to think about me, didn’t you? It just wasn’t important enough to let your _wife_ know where you were going, was it?’ 

‘I figured you’d just go to bed and I’d be back –’ 

‘I wish I _had!_ Nice to know that I wasted all that energy worrying over someone who doesn’t care a whit about how I feel!’ 

‘Lily, I _do_ care about how you feel, I’m really sorry –’

‘Shut up, you horrible prat, I don’t know why I even married you!’ The angry words escaped her without thinking. In the ringing silence that followed, Lily’s insides curled at the sight of James’s hurt face. He couldn’t have looked more stricken if she’d cast the Cruciatus Curse on him. A wave of wrenching guilt flooded her. She couldn’t look at James anymore; she thought she would be sick if she kept seeing that injured expression on his face. 

No – it didn’t matter whether she continued to watch him or not, she’d already seen his wounded look and she _was_ going to be sick again. As she had the night before, she made a break for the bathroom and threw up; this time at least she managed to aim into the sink. 

There was a gentle pressure on her back as James stroked it soothingly. Lily wanted to tell him to stop, to go away, because she didn’t deserve any of his care after she had said all those nasty things to him. She wanted to take it all back; assure him that she didn’t mean any of it. The rage had dissipated and she felt hollow. The tears that she had kept at bay last night won out now and spilled uncontrollably down her cheeks. 

‘Shh,’ said James kindly. ‘I’m sorry I never told you, Lily. Forgive me, will you?’ 

She shook her head blindly, meaning to say that it was _she_ that was sorry, and James ought to be the one forgiving her, but she had lost her powers of coherent speech as she continued to sob and hiccough. 

James continued to run his hand down her back as he steered her down the hall to the living room. He sat down in the same armchair in which she had kept her vigil last night and pulled her down onto his lap, his arms holding her tight. It was a long while before she got control of herself again. 

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, when her sobs finally subsided. ‘I didn’t mean any of it.’ 

‘It’s all right,’ James murmured. ‘Are you feeling better?’ 

She nodded gratefully. ‘Thank you. I – about the Animagus thing –’ 

‘I ought to have told you earlier. I’m sorry I forgot.’ 

‘It’s OK. It was just the shock, I reckon. And last night was a little rough – but you must have had it worse. Were you really running about with a werewolf?’ 

‘Yeah – but it’s not as bad as you think, Lily. We’ve been doing this since fifth year, remember?’ 

‘Fifth year. I can’t believe it, James. It’s – well, it _is_ impressive.’ 

‘Of course,’ he said, tapping his head playfully. ‘I’m James Potter the Great, after all, and that’s why you love me.’ 

‘Potter the Bigheaded Berk.’ But she smiled as she said it. James _had_ come a long way from the arrogant git he’d been in fifth year. 

He grinned and bent to kiss her, but Lily avoided him in alarm. ‘James, I’ve just been sick! You won’t want to –’ 

‘I don’t care,’ he said, and kissed her anyway. ‘You’ve tasted better,’ he admitted, and she rolled her eyes. 

‘I warned you.’ She got to her feet. ‘I’m going to brush my teeth.’ 

James stretched his arms and yawned. ‘Blimey, I’m knackered.’ 

‘Go to bed, then. I’ll come when I’ve cleaned up a bit.’ 

When she had cleaned out her mouth and rid herself of the sour taste, Lily returned to the living room. James hadn’t left; he had succumbed to his fatigue and was snoring softly in the armchair. Smiling to herself, Lily picked up the blanket that had fallen to the ground and shook it a few times before draping it over him. Then, on second thought, she lifted it and squeezed herself into the chair too, half on James’s lap. Laying her head against his shoulder, she closed her eyes to sleep too.

_**A/N** : For anyone who's interested, I wrote an outtake from this chapter some time back, on Lily and James's wedding, specially for **spidergirl** , who is an amazing reader and friend! That outtake can be found here on my LJ: <http://shiiki.livejournal.com/47680.html#cutid5>, _


	15. 15 Announcements

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN:** **Announcements**

_December, 1979_

Alice Longbottom handed Lily a warm tea cup. 

‘Drink,’ she said firmly. ‘It’s chamomile tea. You’ll feel better.’ 

Lily took a tentative sip. The warm liquid slid soothingly down her throat, which was sore from vomiting. 

‘Thanks,’ she croaked. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know why …’ She’d come to the Longbottoms to talk to Frank about several things she could do for the Order, but for some reason, the smell of Alice’s cooking had made her stomach go queasy. She’d been heaving for the past fifteen minutes. 

‘Don’t be sorry,’ said Alice. ‘I felt absolutely horrid, too, my first month along.’ 

‘What are you talking about?’ 

‘Oh, I couldn’t cook breakfast for a week – Frank had to do it, and then I couldn’t eat, because it’d all come up again. I felt so bad for him; after all the effort he put into making breakfast, I didn’t have any. But it’ll get better, don’t worry.’ 

‘I don’t understand.’ 

‘The morning sickness, I mean. You know – vomiting and all that.’ 

Lily’s eyes widened as understanding dawned on her. Alice was … pregnant? Then her cheeks warmed as she realised what Alice was assuming. 

‘Alice, you’ve got it wrong, I don’t have morning sickness. I didn’t know you were expecting, though.’ 

‘I didn’t tell you? Oh, I don’t know how it must have slipped my mind; I certainly meant to …’ 

‘When are you due?’

‘Next summer – still a long way. But Lily, you … I thought … well, I reckon you’d know better. But I could’ve sworn you were pregnant, too, what with your being sick and all that … heaven knows _I_ felt that way two months ago!’ 

Lily shook her head. ‘I’m not …’ She found that she couldn’t finish the sentence, however. Alice’s innocent assumption had sowed a seed of uncertainty. What if Alice was _right_? If what she’d believed to be the flu or a virus affecting her really was … a baby? 

Frank returned to the kitchen then, dressed in his Auror’s robes. ‘Are you feeling better, Lily?’ he said briskly. ‘I’m sorry to rush you if you’re not feeling well, but I’m afraid I have a shift in half an hour, so we’ll have to talk now.’ 

‘It’s all right, Frank, I’m fine,’ said Lily, taking another draught of Alice’s chamomile tea. Her stomach felt much more settled already. _There – it must be just a stomach bug after all._ She pushed thoughts of pregnancy out of her mind and focused on Order work. 

The nagging suspicion tugged at her for the rest of the day, however. She finally stepped into a Muggle pharmacy in the afternoon, deciding to put her doubts to rest. 

Ten minutes later, Lily stared at the thin, plastic stick she was holding in her fingers, not daring to believe the information it was waving in her face. 

_It’s got to be wrong_. 

But though her mind was in denial, the rest of her – heart, body, and soul – didn’t really need this piece of conclusive evidence to confirm what was by now (quite literally) a growing suspicion. 

She Banished the Muggle pregnancy test kit, with its affirmative pink cross, to the rubbish bin, and sank onto the couch. Unconsciously, her hands settled almost protectively over her belly. 

Was it just her imagination, or had she just felt a flutter of movement inside? 

It was difficult to comprehend that within her were the stirrings of new life. Even tougher was the question: What was she to do now? 

Neither she nor James had planned for such a scenario; they were young and newly-wed with no stable careers – already not the best circumstance for a child. Add in a war where they were on the front line, and the whole situation became horribly dangerous. The thought of bringing an innocent baby into the thick of the fight sickened her. 

Yet another part of her couldn’t help feeling thrilled that in the midst of death and doom, life could be blossoming. 

~ * ~ 

Lily was standing in the living room, staring into the fire with an expression of deep thought in her eyes. James sidled up to her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. She started and turned to meet his gaze, her brow still furrowed in serious contemplation. 

‘Is anything wrong? You look awfully serious.’ 

Lily bowed her head for a moment. When she looked up again, her green eyes were bright with a bewildering mixture of joy and apprehension. 

‘I think you’d better sit down before you hear this,’ she said bracingly. 

‘Lily, what –’ 

‘Just – just _sit_ , all right?’ She sounded extremely frazzled. Alarmed, James allowed her to lead him to the couch. When they were both seated, she took a deep breath and said, ‘We – James, we’re going to be … parents.’ 

His jaw fell open in amazement. Of all the surprises she could have sprung on him … 

‘What – Lily, are you saying that you’re …’ his voice trailed off hopefully. 

Lily nodded. ‘Yes, James, I am.’ 

‘That’s great!’ The words burst out of him in a half-laugh. He sprung up and grabbed her hands, swinging her around the room in his excitement. A baby – they were going to start their own family! ‘I’ll be a dad! And you’ll be a mum … I wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl … or even both!’ 

‘James, stop!’ Lily pulled away from him, looking slightly upset. Surprised, James stared at her. ‘Aren’t you worried about how we’re going to raise this child? With Voldemort around and all … we’re in the Order, James – it’s all so dangerous …’ 

‘You’re not saying that – you want to get rid of … No, Lily, please –’ 

‘No, of course not, James!’ Lily sounded horrified at the very suggestion. ‘I’d never … He – or she – is _my_ child.’ 

‘ _And_ mine,’ added James. 

‘Ours,’ agreed Lily. ‘We’re having this baby, James. I’m just worried about his – or her – future.’ 

He’d never meant a thing more than when he looked Lily in the eye and vowed forcefully, ‘Then we’ll make sure he – or she – will _have_ a future.’ 

~ * ~ 

It should have been a joyous Christmas. Sirius and Peter came over to Godric’s Hollow to celebrate, but Remus couldn’t be contacted. It was quite common for him to go missing for long periods of time now, without warning – James wasn’t certain exactly what errands Remus was running for the Order, but he knew better than to ask about a possibly top-secret mission, if Remus wasn’t forthcoming with details. 

Still, they managed to have quite a merry gathering. James had cooked dinner, under Lily’s supervision, and Sirius wouldn’t stop ribbing him about apron strings. James didn’t really mind; the news about the baby, which he and Lily had agreed to disclose later, was like a bubbling spring of joy inside his heart. 

Indeed, Sirius was struck speechless when Lily announced shyly, ‘I’m pregnant.’ He stared at Lily with eyes so wide that it seemed as though he’d never seen her before. James couldn’t help but laugh at his dumbstruck expression. Then Sirius turned to him. 

‘You’re having me on,’ he said disbelievingly. ‘No way – _Prongs_ is going to be a dad?’ 

James nodded, grinning. 

Peter was more placid. ‘Congratulations, I reckon,’ he said formally, reaching out to shake Lily’s, and then James’s, hands. ‘But don’t you think it might be quite … well, dangerous? I mean, with You-Know-Who –’ 

‘Voldemort –’ 

Peter shuddered, but continued. ‘Maybe it’s not such a good idea, James, Lily. I think – I think you should reconsider this.’ 

‘ _Reconsider_?’ exploded Sirius suddenly, snapping out of his half-dazed state. ‘Wormtail, if I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you were trying to take the coward’s way out of this.’ 

‘I’m just saying that it might make Lily and James safer if they didn’t have a baby to tie them down. They’d have a faster getaway if – if You-Know-Who came after them.’ 

‘Relax, Peter,’ said Lily reassuringly. ‘We’re not going to be murdered just because we’ve got a baby with us.’ 

‘All I’m saying is –’ 

‘I know,’ interrupted James. ‘We did think about it, Peter. But the kid’s on the way already, and we’re going to have him.’ 

Peter sighed. ‘Be careful, all right?’ 

‘We will, Peter,’ promised Lily. ‘Now – would any of you like –’ 

But they never found out what Lily wanted to offer them. The window shattered at that moment as a snowy owl bashed its way through and delivered a black envelope which smoked at the edges in a Howler-like style. The envelope fluttered to the ground in front of Sirius, and the owl took off out the window, back into the night. 

‘What the …’ Sirius reached out for it, puzzled. 

‘Don’t touch it!’ yelped Peter. ‘It’s – it … it looks cursed.’ James narrowed his eyes, considering the possibility. It really just looked as though someone had managed to dye a Howler black. 

‘ _Specialis Revelio_!’ commanded Lily. Her spellwork revealed no latent hexes on or around the smoking black envelope, which was starting to whistle now, so Sirius levitated it and used his wand to slit it open. 

The house was immediately filled with screaming. The letter evidently _was_ a Howler, but there was no admonishment, just howl after howl of tortured, agonised yells. 

James’s first thought was to Banish the Howler, but shock and a touch of disgusted terror rooted his wand arm to his side. Who had sent such a nasty letter? It reeked of cruel sadism … it _had_ to be Death Eater work. Didn’t that mean the Howler was dangerous, then? He had to get rid of it. 

‘ _Abigo_! _Evanesco_!’ But even a desperate ‘ _Reducto_!’ did nothing but blast a hole in the opposite wall. The wailing – now punctuated with gasping sobs and the sound of manic laughter in the background – continued. James realised with increasing alarm that the voice issuing from the Howler sounded _familiar_. 

Were they hearing the cries of one of their compatriot as Death Eaters – or even Voldemort – tortured him to death? 

James didn’t know how long the four of them sat there, transfixed by horror and frozen in distress. The silence that followed the conclusion of the screams rang as loud as the yelling, and before any of them could find their voices, the vicious laugh of Bellatrix Black chilled them to the bone. 

Then the Howler, having screamed itself out, disintegrated to the floor in a pile of ash. 

There was a retching noise, and James turned to Lily, anxious, but although she looked extremely green, she hadn’t been the one to throw up. It was Sirius who had emptied his dinner onto their living room floor – Sirius, who was now whey-faced and trembling. 

‘Shit,’ he exploded, once he’d wiped his mouth. He was kneeling on the ground, having fell to his hands to vomit. He let out a couple more choice expletives before pushing himself to his feet and groping along the walls like a blind man as he made for the door. 

James made a grab for Sirius’s arm, but Sirius shook him off and stumbled out of the room. 

‘Sirius, stop –’ 

He managed to catch on to his best friend in the hallway, dodging a blind swing from Sirius as he did so. 

‘Let me go,’ gasped Sirius. He swore again, and tried to punch James in the stomach. He missed his target, but the blow stuck James on the shoulder. James hit back, sensing that Sirius needed to fight someone now – and there was no way he’d let his Sirius go out and hunt down his cousin in this state. 

‘ _Silencio_!’ he muttered – no need to alarm Lily and Peter yet – but this gave Sirius enough time to slam his fist into James’s cheekbone, and the force made James stagger backwards into a table. 

‘Damn – ouch –’ 

Then, as though all his violent energy had been expended, Sirius collapsed against the wall, breathing hard, his face buried in his hands. 

‘She – he – _fuck_ her – oh God, I can’t believe …’ 

James gingerly reached up to feel his cheek. It felt bruised, but it didn’t seem as though anything was broken. Quietly, he squatted next to his friend. 

‘I thought it’d be … Aurors … God, it’d be bad enough … he was all right, once …’ James pulled his hands away from his face, and Sirius stared at him, his grey eyes burning with dark anguish. ‘But if Bella got him – he ...’ 

Incoherent as Sirius was, James managed to put two and two together. Regulus Black – it was Sirius’s brother whose screams had just reverberated around the house. James hadn’t any idea how Regulus might have fallen foul of the Death Eaters, but it didn’t matter. James was willing to bet that Regulus was dead now … tortured to death … and it didn’t take a genius to work out that Bellatrix Black was very likely responsible. 

It had to be killing Sirius, to know that. He was very outspoken about his loathing for his family – with the exception of his cousin Andromeda – yet James had never heard him denounce his brother sincerely. Sirius seemed to harbour a secret hope that Regulus would see the light someday. 

Whether he had or not, it was too late now. 

‘He sounded like that as a kid,’ said Sirius suddenly, in a very hollow voice. ‘When Dad punished us – he could always yell the house down. We used to – cover for each other. 

‘He’s a right idiot, getting himself killed. He should’ve – I could’ve, if he’d … Shit, James, what’d I do to get such a thick brother?’ There was no malice in his words, however. ‘Why the hell do I even give a damn?’ 

‘Because he was your brother,’ said Lily’s voice. James hadn’t realised she’d come. He wondered if she’d heard the fight, even with his _Silencio_. Or if she’d followed them and watched all this while. She didn’t comment on his bruised appearance, however – bending down, she reached out to touch Sirius’s arm. ‘You were brothers once, and that’s important.’ Her arms stretched out around him and tightened in a hug. 

‘He was all right, once,’ mumbled Sirius. 

‘Maybe he still was, in the end,’ offered James. Sirius gave a bark of a laugh, and gently pushed Lily away. 

‘Maybe,’ he said roughly. ‘Fuck it, James. _You’re_ my brother, have been for years, _you’re_ the one who’d better not die. Don’t you fucking die, too, you hear me?’ 

‘I hear you, Sirius.’ 

‘Good.’ He rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, his mouth set in a grimace. 

Lily rose and said quietly, ‘I’ll get a Draft for Dreamless Sleep. There’s some in the kitchen, I think.’ 

Understanding her intention, James took his cue. ‘Come on, Sirius, you can have the spare room tonight.’ He hauled his best mate to his feet and guided him down the hallway to the empty room. Lily entered a moment later, a potion-filled goblet in her hands. 

‘Take care, Sirius.’ She left the room, but James stayed a while, watching Sirius down the potion as though it were Firewhisky. 

‘Sorry for ruining Christmas,’ he muttered. 

‘It’s not your fault.’ 

Sirius didn’t reply; Lily’s Sleeping Draft was potent. He was already asleep. James closed the door softly behind him as he left. 

Lily and Peter were in conversation when he returned to the living room. 

‘– lucky it was opened, really, otherwise it’d explode – probably with enough force to take the whole house and us with it.’ 

‘How d’you know that, Wormtail?’ 

Peter still looked rather white in the face. James reckoned it must have given him a horrible fright, hearing the Howler go off. ‘I – well, I heard this tale from someone at the Department – said the … that last family that got blown up – er – got one of _those_ things.’ He jerked his head at the pile of ash on the ground and shuddered. 

‘I don’t think I really want to find out,’ said Lily faintly. ‘I hope we can get rid of its … remains, though. _Evanesco_!’ 

Thankfully, whatever magic that had prevented the Howler from being Vanished no longer hung about once it had been delivered in full. The ashes disappeared without a trace. 

‘I’d better take my leave now, then,’ said Peter. ‘Um … happy Christmas …’ 

‘Happy Christmas, Peter,’ said James, shaking Peter’s hand. ‘Sorry about the whole …’ 

Peter shrugged. ‘Nothing much any of us could’ve done to prevent that, was there? Those Death Eaters –’ he shivered ‘– have got the sickest sense of humour. I hope Sirius’ll be all right.’ 

He put on his cloak, bid them farewell again, and Disapparated. James staggered to the couch, feeling extremely weary all of a sudden, and fell onto it. Lily came and sat next to him, leaning her cheek against his shoulder. 

‘Poor Sirius,’ she said after a moment’s pause. ‘I can’t imagine … no, I _can_ , but I don’t want to.’ James reached for her hand – it was cold. He traced his thumb around the inside of her palm, rubbing it comfortingly. ‘I saw him, James. I saw him at Hogwarts.’ 

‘Regulus?’ 

He felt her face move against him as she nodded. ‘I was at Slughorn’s party … he was there – I thought there was something odd about him, and I almost caught him, but he … he got away. And I didn’t think any more of it because everyone was all right, and that was the night … the night that Dorcas …’ 

James held her hand tighter. ‘Did you think he was a Death Eater?’ 

‘I – don’t know. I thought he might have been … but he seemed ... distressed. As though he was involved in something way over his head. And he wanted information from Slughorn … but Slughorn wouldn’t give. And – he ran for it afterwards. James, if only I’d managed to catch him! Maybe we could have helped him, if he was really … defecting from the Death Eaters.’ 

‘Or maybe he wasn’t. What if he was killed because he failed in his assignment – sounds right up Voldemort’s street, doesn’t it? How would we know, Lily?’ 

‘We – we can’t.’ 

They both fell into a brooding silence. James broke it after several minutes with, ‘Are you going to tell Sirius?’ 

‘Wha – oh. I don’t know, James. Should I?’ 

‘No. At least not now. We don’t _know_ anything for sure, Lily, and the whole thing’s just so messy … no. Let’s just let the whole thing rest. There’s no point giving Sirius any more grief.’ 

‘All right.’ Lily’s arms crept up around his neck. He winced as her fingers pressed against the bruise forming on his cheek. ‘Does it hurt?’ 

‘Not much – ow!’ She was rubbing on it. 

‘Hush, you need to rub it a bit, or it’ll be worse tomorrow.’ 

James grimaced. ‘Gently, all right?’ 

‘He really cared about Regulus, didn’t he?’ said Lily after a while. 

‘Yeah, I reckon. I know he didn’t really show it – he hates his family, you know, but Regulus was … I suppose they were really good friends before … before I came along, actually.’ Should he feel guilty about that? He’d been best friends with Sirius for such a long time, it seemed like forever. It’d been so long that it was hard to imagine that before they’d been friends, Sirius had belonged to a different world, and had had a different brother there. A brother he’d practically renounced since he’d claimed James as one, but who still managed to tug at his heartstrings. 

His uncertainty must have been written all over his face, because Lily said, ‘Sirius loves you. You’re more of a brother to him than Regulus – he cares about Regulus, but you’re even more important.’ She kissed his bruised cheek. ‘It’s obvious. He’d die for you. And I’m betting you’d probably do the same. But don’t either of you go dying just yet.’ 


	16. 16 The Naming of a Saviour

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN:** **The Naming of a Saviour**

_February – March, 1980_

February started with the loss of Edgar Bones and his family, murdered in their own home by a whole gang of Death Eaters – it had taken no less than ten. Lily, despite James’s protests (‘I’m _pregnant_ , not invalid!’ she had countered), had joined the rescue team. When they arrived, Edgar’s wife and son had already fallen and Edgar himself had been single-handedly fighting three Death Eaters and trying to shield his daughter against a fourth. They were too late to stop the two killing curses streaking out towards father and daughter; Lily watched him fall, as though in slow motion, his face twisted in concern for his young girl, who crumpled like a rag doll. Gideon Prewett was so incensed that he killed the Death Eater responsible on the spot. James and Sirius Stunned another who had hesitated to fire the Dark Mark into the air, but the others escaped. 

‘We’ll pick off the rest of you, one by one,’ snarled one of them before Disapparating. 

There was nothing to do but inform the Ministry that there had been another murder. Amelia Bones of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement arrived, white-faced and shaking; Edgar was her nephew. Frank and Alice stayed to take care of matters with the Aurors while the rest of the Order went home, devastated by the loss of yet another of their ranks. Lily had to brew a Dreamless Sleep Potion for Gideon Prewett, who was distraught at having actually killed a man – even if he had been a Death Eater. 

The worst news of all came in March, when Dumbledore called Lily and James and Frank and Alice to Hogwarts unexpectedly. 

‘There has been a prophecy made, which may affect your lives irreversibly,’ he said gravely. 

James looked rather disbelieving. ‘A prophecy, sir? What could a prophecy have to do with us?’ 

‘Please hear me out first, James. Last week, I made my way to the Hog’s Head to interview an applicant for the post of Divination teacher. She made a most alarming prediction … which I will allow you to hear now.’ Drawing out a shallow stone basin with runic carvings etched into its sides, he dipped his wand into its misty contents. 

The ghostly figure of a very thin woman rose out of the basin, revolving slowly. She resembled a grasshopper with her enormous round glasses and skinny wrists protruding from underneath a few layers of shawls wrapped around her torso. In a strident voice, she announced: 

_‘The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives … the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies …’_

Having made this pronouncement, the silvery figure sank back into the basin just as she had rose. Lily watched her, transfixed, the words revolving in her ears just as the figure had been. Who was this child who might have the power to destroy Voldemort? _Hers_? Her hand moved instinctively to her belly. It hadn’t ballooned out much yet, unlike Alice, who though was only about a month further along, had an abdomen the size of a Quaffle. But Lily could still sense the stirring of the life beginning inside her. 

‘I don’t understand,’ Frank was saying. ‘There’s no certainty that this prophecy will be fulfilled. I know something about prophecies – there’s a hall of them in the Department of Mysteries that have never come true!’ 

‘Yes – I agree, Frank,’ said Dumbledore. ‘I do not believe that our destinies depend on what is foretold; rather, it is our choices that make the difference. In this case, however, it is Voldemort’s choice that will affect you. I regret to say that I was not the only person who bore witness to this prophecy. A servant of Voldemort overheard the first part of this prophecy, and I do not doubt that right now Voldemort will be actively hunting for the one whom he believes will be his deadliest foe. He does not understand, however, that in doing so, he may very well hand-pick his own adversary.’ 

‘So he’ll just be after us, thinking that either Lily or I may be carrying his downfall?’ said Alice. 

‘I admit I do not know if Voldemort will wait for the birth of the child before marking him down. As it is, I believe he may not know yet that either of you are expecting…but it is a matter of time. He will recall that the four of you have each faced him three times and survived, and he will discover your pregnancy – as well as the due dates, for he has spies in many places. I’m sure the four of you realise the implications of having Alice and Lily due in July …’ 

Suddenly, Lily realised with huge relief that Dumbledore had got it wrong; the prophecy could not refer to her. _‘… born as the seventh month dies …’_ – her son was due in August! 

‘Sir, there’s been a mistake,’ she said thankfully. ‘I’m due in August, not July.’ 

James looked as relieved as she was. But Dumbledore’s eyebrows were furrowed. 

‘The distinction between a July and an August due date is not very clear …’ 

‘What if your baby comes early?’ said Alice softly. 

‘He won’t!’ Lily wouldn’t allow herself to believe it. ‘Don’t say it, Alice.’ 

‘Lily –’ 

‘No!’ 

‘I do admit,’ said Dumbledore calmly, ‘that Frank and Alice appear to be in graver danger.’ 

Alice placed a hand protectively over her belly. Lily felt like doing the same, only – only she couldn’t accept it. Voldemort wouldn’t – _couldn’t_ come after her unborn child. 

‘I would suggest,’ Dumbledore continued, ‘that you go into hiding at once.’ He was looking directly at Alice, but Lily had a feeling he was addressing her as well. 

Frank looked stunned and apprehensive. His arm went protectively around his wife. Alice, however, though her face was white as a sheet, shrugged it off, and stepped forward bravely. 

‘I swear on my life that Voldemort will never take my child. We will go into hiding at once.’ 

Dumbledore nodded approvingly. ‘If you could stay a few moments after, we can discuss the details … As for James and Lily …’ 

She felt torn – it wasn’t that she didn’t want to keep her baby safe. They could hide, withdraw from the fight and disappear, but Voldemort would continue to hunt them, and how could anyone guarantee that they would be safe, with Voldemort getting stronger by the day? 

‘Wouldn’t hiding be too obvious, Professor?’ James pointed out suddenly. Lily felt a sudden rush of relief. It was so logical – if they ran, it was a reason for Voldemort to give chase. ‘Voldemort would guess why – we would be even more of a target.’ 

‘That _is_ true,’ said Dumbledore, nodding. 

‘Isn’t that true for us as well?’ said Frank. ‘We don’t know for sure that Voldemort knows we’re expecting –’ 

‘Frank!’ said Alice exasperatedly. ‘Look at me. It’s not going to be easy to hide this.’ She patted her swollen belly tenderly. ‘And besides, your mother knows he’s due in July, and who knows how many relatives she’s told. And you know that we can’t trust anyone now –’ 

Dumbledore coughed and looked at all of them sorrowfully. ‘I understand that you would rather be actively helping the Order, Frank,’ said Dumbledore gently, ‘but by protecting your child, you may be doing us the greatest service possible.’ 

Lily found herself staring at Alice with great respect. She found herself recalling catechism lessons from her childhood. Like Mary, mother of Jesus, this was the woman chosen to bear the prospective saviour of the wizarding world. 

‘Whatever he may turn out to be,’ said Alice finally, ‘he is still my child first and foremost. And I will protect him at all costs.’ 

‘Above all, a mother’s love is the most powerful,’ said Dumbledore approvingly. ‘We had better discuss how you will go into hiding now. James, Lily, if you’re sure …’ 

James glanced at her – a split second’s hesitation – and she nodded in reassurance. ‘We’re sure,’ he said. 

‘I thank you for coming, then.’ 

‘Thank _you_ , Professor,’ said Lily empathically, as she and James rose to leave. 

‘Do be careful Lily,’ urged Alice. Lily hugged her friend tightly. 

‘I will. Take care of yourself … and the little one.’ 

‘Neville,’ said Alice softly. ‘We’re going to call him Neville.’ 

~ * ~ 

‘Neville Longbottom, saviour of the wizarding world,’ said James thoughtfully, as they made their way down one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade so that they could Apparate home. 

‘Don’t joke about it!’ Lily choked out. ‘It’s terrible – it’s cruel – I hate Voldemort!’ 

James halted in his steps, and drew her close. Lily laid her head on his shoulder. 

‘I’m scared, James,’ she whispered. ‘If – if it were us – if he thought it were us – he’d kill me, he’d kill our baby –’ 

‘I won’t let that happen,’ said James forcefully. ‘I’ll die before I let anything happen to you. You know that. And nothing’s going to happen. Once July has come and gone, we won’t have to worry.’ 

_And if it happens in July …_ James didn’t say it, but Lily knew the unspoken question, the chilling possibility that Alice had raised but neither wanted to accept was running through both of their minds: What would they do if their child was born in July? 

‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,’ said James, although neither had voiced their worry. ‘Likely we’ll find we’ve been worrying for nothing.’ 

Lily nodded mutely into James’s shoulder. It was a rare hope – she tried to feel comforted. 

‘So,’ said James, trying to change the subject once they continued on their way. ‘What’ll we call the new Potter, then?’ 

‘A boy,’ said Lily automatically. ‘It’ll be a boy.’ 

‘How do you know?’ 

‘I just do. Call it a mother’s intuition.’ 

‘A boy,’ said James happily. ‘James Junior?’ 

‘I’m not having another you running around the house!’ said Lily, alarmed. ‘Besides, it’d be too confusing, with two Jameses. He’d end up with a nickname. We should give him a name he can _use_.’ 

‘I know – call him Albus! I’m sure Dumbledore would be pleased …’ 

Lily considered this. Then she shuddered. 

‘Albus Potter. What does that sound like to you?’ 

James looked confused. ‘It sounds impressive … don’t you think so?’ 

‘Yes, exactly. It sounds like the name of a hero, James.’ 

‘Isn’t that good?’ 

‘No! James, I don’t want him a saviour of the world. I want my son – _our_ son – safe and happy and normal and – and – not some prophesised world-saver! I don’t want Voldemort after him, damn it!’ 

‘Lily, relax! It’s just a name, right?’ 

‘I – I just don’t want – oh James, can’t we give him a nice, normal name?’ 

‘Well … unless you want to call him Tom, Dick, or Harry, I can’t think what –’ 

‘Tom Potter. Dick Potter. Harry Potter.’ Lily was already running through each name. 

‘Harry Potter,’ she repeated, lingering on the last option. 

‘Hey, I like that,’ said James. ‘Harry.’ He looked wistful, and Lily recalled suddenly that James’s elder sister, who had been a victim of the Dark Arts, had been named ‘Harriet’. 

‘He could be named for Harriet,’ she said softly. How coincidental that they had stumbled upon such a simple, but suitable name! 

James nodded. ‘Thank you. It’s perfect.’ 

‘Yes it is. And it’s a safe, commonplace name,’ said Lily happily. ‘Whoever heard of a Harry saving the world?’ 

James laughed. ‘I think you’re being paranoid. But Harry it is, then. Harry Potter.’ 


	17. 17 Holding Out for a Hero

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

_**A/N** : This chapter is for all mothers who have valiantly borne the pain of childbirth for the sake of their children. You are all amazing!_

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:** **Holding Out for a Hero**

_July, 1980_

James set down the _Evening Prophet_ on the table with a sigh and leant back against the couch. Sirius shot him a sharp glance. 

‘Anything awful that we don’t yet know about?’ His eyes darted to the newspaper and back. 

James shook his head. ‘The Prewetts were in there.’ 

Sirius’s face darkened. Gideon and Fabian Prewett had gone down fighting less than a week ago. Rumour had it that it had taken five Death Eaters to kill them. But even knowing that the twins had died a heroic death was no comfort to the members of the Order, whose numbers were seriously dwindling by now. 

Lily said nothing as well. She was staring distractedly into the fire, a distant look in her eyes. 

‘Lily?’ 

She turned her head to him with what seemed to be considerable effort. 

‘Lily, are you all right?’ 

Lily ran her hand absently over her middle. Thanks to the Concealment Charm she had cast, her stomach looked completely flat, but James knew very well that it was in reality swollen to the size of a very bloated Quaffle. She nodded her head, but the taut muscles in her pale face rather indicated otherwise. 

‘You don’t look too well …’ 

‘I’m _fine_ ,’ she snapped, a bit of colour rushing into her cheeks. 

Sirius looked at Lily shrewdly. Rather bluntly, he asked, ‘Are you in labour?’ 

‘No!’ 

But James thought Sirius might be right. Lily’s face was alarming in its pallor, and her hands tightened over her belly as though it ached. She looked completely frightened. 

‘It’s … it’s not time yet,’ she said desperately. ‘Not now. It’s too early!’ 

‘I know he’s not due yet,’ said James, trying to sound soothing, ‘but –’ 

‘Just twenty-six more hours!’ Lily sounded as though she had been counting down for some time. James was startled to realise that she might have been doing so for some time already, all the while when she had been sitting so quietly in her armchair that evening. It was nearly ten o’clock now; how long had she been waiting already? 

‘Can you wait that long?’ 

Lily pursed her lips determinedly. 

‘Do you want to lie down?’ 

‘No – I’ll be all right. I just need to hold on.’ 

‘I’ll – um – make you a cup of tea,’ offered Sirius. Lily nodded gratefully and Sirius hurried off to the kitchen. James knelt by Lily’s chair and patted her arm comfortingly, his heart banging like a Bludger against his chest. 

‘I’m all right,’ Lily said. How ironic it was, James thought, that she was reassuring _him_. But when she curled her fingers around his hand and squeezed it tight, he realised that it was for her own comfort as well as his that she had said it. 

An hour and five cups of tea later, Lily was shaking with the effort of suppressing her contractions. Panic was rising in James’s gut – he had no idea what he was supposed to do, no idea how to help. This was supposed to be happening weeks later, with Healers from St Mungo’s around to assist. Judging from the way Sirius was wearing a trail in their carpet by his pacing up and down the room, he had no inkling of how to be of use either. 

Finally, after Lily gave a gigantic shudder, James said hesitantly, ‘Maybe we ought to Floo St Mungo’s …’ 

‘No!’ gasped Lily. ‘Floo calls can be traced … We can’t … not now ...’ 

‘Maybe the Healers can help you hang on for …’ 

‘Twenty-five hours,’ said Lily miserably. ‘It’s too long, they’d just deliver the baby …’ 

Which might be better than if they waited it out here and had Harry born in their living room with only two of them around to help. They knew _nothing_ about babies, nothing about pregnancy … Anything could go wrong … 

‘A Muggle hospital,’ said Sirius suddenly, stopping in his tracks across the room. ‘Lily, you can go to a Muggle hospital. You’ll at least have people there who know what’s going on, even if they aren’t Healers – better than James and me because _we’re_ totally clueless here. And Voldemort wouldn’t be able to trace the births in a Muggle hospital, even if you can’t make it for long enough.’ 

‘I _can_ ,’ insisted Lily, but doubt was creeping into her voice. 

‘A Muggle hospital?’ said James in alarm. ‘What if they cut her up?’ 

‘It’s not like that, James,’ said Lily. ‘I think – I think Sirius has a point. But … let’s wait another hour first, all right?’ She grimaced as a wave of pain appeared to ripple through her. 

By midnight, it was clear that they would have to follow Sirius’s plan. Lily was, however, in no condition to Apparate, and neither James nor Sirius wanted to risk Side-Along-Apparition in her condition. 

‘It’ll have to be the motorbike,’ said Sirius. Even with her whey-coloured face, Lily managed an incredulous look. James had his misgivings about this too: how safe would Lily be on the motorcycle? It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Sirius; he’d trust his life, and Lily’s as well, to Sirius. But the motorbike was a whole different, riskier business. 

‘I’ll drive safely. I swear, Lily. Come on, you haven’t a choice here.’ 

‘We could ring up an ambulance …’ 

‘Unless you and James have secreted a telephone somewhere, I don’t see how.’ 

‘Fine. Do you even know where there’s a hospital near here?’ 

‘We’ll find one.’ 

‘Wait – how am I going to find you then?’ said James, suddenly imagining himself searching through every hospital in Muggle England. 

‘The mirrors. The two-way mirrors we used in detention,’ said Sirius. ‘I’ve got mine at home; I’ll just Apparate back and get it –’ 

‘I ought to change too,’ said Lily. She pushed herself to her feet with difficulty and made her way slowly to the stairs. 

Half an hour later, they were all ready, Sirius having Apparated home and returned in Muggle attire; Lily in a faded print dress that she had Expanded to fit her burgeoning belly. They took off on Sirius’s motorcycle (James hoped that Sirius would have the sense not to _fly_ it), and James, now dressed in a Muggle shirt and jeans, took over Sirius’s job of pacing the room. 

After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, Sirius’s face appeared in James’s half of the two-way mirror, looking flustered. 

‘You’ve got to get here now,’ he said frantically. ‘There’s all sorts of forms to fill and Lily’s got to go in at once, and they think _I’m_ her husband!’ 

‘Well, tell me where to Apparate to!’ 

Sirius gave him the address, and James nearly forgot to lock up the cottage before Apparating to the hospital – he _did_ forget that it was illegal to Apparate straight into a Muggle establishment, but fortunately he landed in an empty bathroom. He dashed out wildly, briefly noting that it was a female lavatory (it might have been funny if he hadn’t been so pre-occupied), and out into a long corridor full of Muggle Healers. By pure luck he had made it to the very floor where Sirius and Lily were, and he found them in a waiting area not unlike the one at St. Mungo’s. Sirius immediately thrust a bundle of papers into his hands. 

‘There,’ he said with enormous relief. 

A Muggle in a long white coat was speaking to Lily about ‘birth plans’ and ‘epidurals’ and other utterly foreign terms. Lily, although she seemed to grasp what the Muggle Healer was talking about, seemed totally at sea with how to answer. 

‘I don’t know who’s your gynaecologist, but frankly, you’re terribly unprepared. Without medical records or insurance … and no thought as to how you plan to carry out this birth – have you at least brought a change of clothes? No? Well, I don’t know … but we’ll sort it out later, you need to be checked right away.’ 

Lily reached for James’s hand as the Muggle Healer led her down the corridor. He held it tightly but had to let go when the Muggle Healers settled her into a bed and poked about (without sharp objects, for which he was thankful). He and Sirius, who had surreptitiously followed along, were pushed into a corner of the room. 

‘Your waters have broken … you’re at five centimetres already – should have been here long ago,’ muttered the Muggle Healer who had met them in the waiting room. ‘It’ll probably be soon … once you get to ten …’ 

James saw Lily shake her head, but the Muggle Healer was rushing about distractedly. James took the opportunity to move closer to Lily. 

‘What time is it?’ whispered Lily when he was close enough. 

‘Nearly two,’ said James, checking his watch. 

‘Twenty-two more hours,’ said Lily softly. 

‘Nowhere near that long,’ assured the Muggle Healer, overhearing. 

Lily shook her head. ‘I have to hold on. He can’t come today!’ 

‘It’ll probably be faster if you get up –’ 

‘I’ll lie down, then!’ Lily flattened herself against the bed as rigidly as if she had put a Permanent Sticking Charm on herself. The Muggle Healer looked disapproving. 

‘Honestly, it’ll be better if you just listen –’ 

‘ _No_!’ 

‘It’s her baby, isn’t it?’ growled Sirius from the corner. The Muggle Healer looked from Lily’s determined face, to James’s troubled one, to Sirius’s dark expression, and gave a sigh of exasperation. 

‘Have it your way,’ she said huffily. ‘I’m going to fill out forms. Let me know when you change your mind and need help, Mrs Potter.’ 

The time seemed to tick by slower than a Flobberworm could crawl. The room was silent except for the beeping of the eckletic Muggle machine and Lily’s ragged breathing. They counted down on the hour … twenty-one to go … twenty … nineteen … Lily’s face contorted with pain at regular intervals that got increasingly shorter as the hours past. The Muggle Healer popped in regularly to check, scrutinising a screen on the machine that had wiggly green lines rising and falling like a tracking of players in a Quidditch game. 

The sun rose around six in the morning, casting the dawn’s golden rays into the room from a tiny window. James wondered how Lily was still hanging on. Her face had lost its dogged determination and her eyes were losing their focus. He and Sirius tried to talk to her, recalling every Hogwarts anecdote from first through seventh year. Lily managed a weak smile from time to time, but mostly she seemed to be far, far away from them. She lay as stiff as a board, visibly repressing the urge to double up every four to five minutes. 

A few hours later, James felt thoroughly exhausted from the efforts of the night, and still it wasn’t over. He hated to imagine how much more wearied Lily must be feeling. The only times she mustered enough energy to speak were to whisper the number of hours there were to go. At this stage, there were still fifteen. He didn’t know how Lily was going to survive it; already she looked as though someone had put the Cruciatus on her. No longer could she keep herself firmly horizontal on the bed; she had slid up a little so that her back was resting against the headboard, and she twisted horribly every two or three minutes. 

Sirius disappeared soon to get them a drink and a bite to eat. He returned shortly after with three steaming mugs of coffee and a bag of pastries. James was ravenous, and the coffee helped to shake him out of the tired stupor that was threatening to overcome him. But Lily shook her head, clearly having no appetite for breakfast of any kind. 

The Muggle Healer came back and checked between Lily’s legs. 

‘Nine and a half centimetres!’ she said. ‘You’re almost there, Mrs Potter. I think we’ll have this delivery within the next half hour –’ 

‘ _No_!’ Lily looked to James for support. 

‘Can’t we wait a little longer?’ he asked, although it tore at him to have to prolong Lily’s misery. 

‘Just –’ he glanced at his watch ‘fourteen more hours …’ 

‘You’re kidding, Mr Potter!’ said the Muggle Healer. ‘Your wife’s already been here nearly ten hours, and her water broke _before_ that.’ She gave Lily an understanding look. ‘I know you’re afraid of the delivery process, Mrs Potter, but if you hold it back, it’ll be much worse, and you run the risk of infection yourself … You’d better prepare yourself mentally now, because when I come back, you’re going to have to push if you’re at ten.’ 

She beckoned to James to leave the room with her. Once outside, she faced him sternly. 

‘Your wife’s frightened and holding back, but you’ll have to encourage her to let go. It would have made things a lot faster if she hadn’t kept withholding.’ 

‘She can’t have the baby until tomorrow,’ said James, wondering how in Merlin’s name he was supposed to explain why. 

The Muggle Healer looked disgusted. ‘I hope it’s not you who put that crackpot idea into her head. When the baby comes, it _has_ to come, and she _has_ to push, or we’ll have complications. And I shouldn’t have to explain to you that the consequences of those – infections, for example – will be more severe than a simple premature birth. If you want your wife to deliver your child safely – if you want to keep them _both_ – it’s essential that we get her to push when she’s ready!’ 

With this ominous threat hanging over him, James returned to the room to find Sirius sitting by Lily’s side, awkwardly patting her arm and looking highly discomfited. James took over, but Lily seemed further from them than ever. The Muggle Healer came back and announced that she needed to check Lily again. Lily seemed to come back to the present with a jerk, pressing her legs firmly together. 

‘Not now!’ she insisted. 

‘Now, really –’ The Muggle Healer gave her leg a tug. Lily immediately curled herself up into a ball, away from the Muggle Healer. James noticed with alarm as her legs moved that her sheets were stained with blood. He looked up and met Sirius’s eyes; his best mate looked very disturbed. 

‘Mr Potter, I need you and your friend to help me!’ said the Muggle Healer urgently. ‘For your wife’s sake … and the baby’s!’ 

James felt torn. If Lily held out, as she was trying to do, Harry would be born in August, out of danger. But the ‘complications’ that the Muggle Healer had just warned him about scared him too – what if he ended up losing them both? 

He’d rather have them safely alive now and take their chances hiding from Voldemort. At least he knew how to deal with that.

‘Lily, I think it’s time to give in to it,’ he said. ‘You’ve been amazing, but this is just out of our control.’ 

She shook her head, tears running down her face. James took her hand and pleaded with her. 

‘If you hold out any longer, you and Harry might not make it. What about me, then? This isn’t the way you want to go, Lily!’ 

Her expression softened for a brief second, before her face twisted again and her body wracked with shudders. 

‘Give Harry a chance now,’ said Sirius, jumping in to help once he caught on. 

‘I don’t want –’ a small groan tore from Lily’s throat ‘Voldemort –’ she gasped for breath ‘to come after –’ she shuddered violently ‘him!’ 

‘I don’t want you to die _now_ ,’ said James fiercely. 

Lily’s eyes closed. For several moments, she lay gasping and crying on the bed. ‘I don’t know how long I can hold on,’ she said finally. 

‘Then don’t. We’ll take it in our stride, we’ll work out something.’ 

Slowly, Lily uncurled her legs. The Muggle Healer hurried to check. 

‘You’re ready,’ she said. ‘You need to push.’ 

‘I –’ protested Lily weakly. But her body at least was following instructions. James could see her heave with the effort. 

‘Come on, Lily,’ Sirius said. ‘You heard her!’ 

‘I’m sorry,’ wept Lily, squeezing James’s hand so tightly it nearly cramped. 

‘Don’t be,’ he said firmly. ‘You did the best you could. You’re marvellous.’ 

Lily’s contractions came fast and furious now, and she pushed with all her might. With each one, she gripped James’s hand with more strength than the last, until he could no longer feel his fingers. It was still taking ages for Harry to arrive, during which Lily cried and panted and sweated so violently that James couldn’t help but feel immensely guilty that she was the only one bearing the pain when both of them had had a hand in Harry’s conception. 

At long last, shortly after noon on July the thirty-first, Harry Potter emerged, squalling and wriggling, into the world. The Muggle Healer held out the tiny wailing body and placed him gently on Lily’s chest. Lily looked completely worn out, but her eyes lit up when they fell upon Harry. 

‘We have a son,’ she said in awe. 

‘You did it,’ said James, bending down to kiss her flushed face. ‘I’m so proud of you.’ 

‘I didn’t make it to tomorrow,’ she said, but the mournfulness of her voice was mitigated by the wide smile that crept across her face as she ran her hands gently over Harry’s downy head. 

‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Sirius, from the opposite corner of Lily’s bed. ‘We’ll find a way to keep Voldemort away.’ 

‘Exactly,’ said James. ‘Don’t worry any more. You need a rest. You _deserve_ a rest. You look like you’ve been _Crucio_ -ed many times over.’ 

Lily smiled wearily. ‘I’m so tired,’ she admitted. 

Another Muggle Healer came in and whisked Harry away (‘To the nursery,’ she assured James, who didn’t feel safe about his son leaving his sight. ‘You’ll see him again in a moment.’). Lily fell asleep immediately after being cleaned up and after kissing her forehead tenderly, James left her room with Sirius to search out Harry. 

He was there, sleeping peacefully in a transparent plastic cot behind a glass window separating the nursery from the corridor. Yet another Muggle Healer came by and accosted him with a form, requiring the newborn’s birth details. He filled them out absently; it wouldn’t matter, since Harry’s records wouldn’t be with the Muggles anyway. The wizarding birth records would be automatically updated – perhaps Harry’s name was already being put down for Hogwarts! 

The form detailed the parents’ particulars, and as James filled in his and Lily’s names (not that they would be found in the Muggle database), he realised there was something very important that he had to confirm with Sirius. 

‘Sirius, would you be Harry’s godfather?’ 

‘Me?’ 

‘Well, who else would I ask!’ 

‘Of – of course!’ Sirius looked as though Christmas had come early. 

A Muggle Healer handed Harry, swathed in soft white blankets, to James. He cradled Harry gingerly in his arms – what if he _dropped_ his son? Harry opened his mouth – James held his breath, expecting a wail – and yawned. James gazed, transfixed, upon his son’s face. Had he himself looked like this when he was born? Harry already had a fuzzy black down over his tiny head; his mouth was like a miniature mirror image of James’s; James felt a wave of regret that he’d never asked his parents about the day he was born. Now it was too late. And Harry – Harry would never know his grandparents. 

Harry opened his eyes and looked straight at James. It gave him a start. There – staring out of his baby’s face, were Lily’s almond-shaped green eyes. 

James couldn't keep the smile off his face.

_**A/N** : Not having given birth before, none of this chapter is written from experience. I’ve tried to make things as true to the research I’ve done as possible, and if any part still does not ring true, I sincerely apologise, and appreciate feedback!_


	18. 18 Alarms

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:** **Alarms**

_August, 1980_

There were boxes everywhere, piled from the ground almost to the ceiling. Lily took one look at it and sighed heavily. Unpacking was going to be a chore, especially if they were going to do it without magic. At least when they’d moved out from their home at Godric’s Hollow, she’d been able to but a Packing Charm on their belongings. 

Thinking of the home she’d just left behind wasn’t improving her mood. Although they’d only lived there for a mere ten months, Lily already felt incurably attached to the place. It was the home she and James had made for themselves; where they’d intended to build their life together; where she’d imagined living in, as a cosy family of three. 

Harry probably wouldn’t even remember the place now; he’d only lived there a month. He wouldn’t get to grow up in the room with the walls she’d specially painted and enchanted – such a waste! She’d loved that room; how she’d looked forward to spending time with Harry in it! 

Instead, they were here, renting a house in Ledbury that was _nice_ enough, but in such a distant sort of way that Lily couldn’t warm to it at all. Unpacking large boxes (they’d had to hire movers to cart their less magical belongings, to keep up appearances among the Muggles) _without_ magic so as to remain untraceable by magical means. 

Godric knew what they would do if Harry set off some accidental magic – although from what she’d read on wizarding children, the first sign of magic generally manifested itself after a child learnt to walk. 

All this because of some stupid prophecy that might not even refer to Harry at all. She didn’t _want_ the Longbottoms’ son to be targeted, but if it came down to a choice between Neville and Harry … well, what mother would want her own son in danger? Lily rubbed at her forehead wearily, wishing fervently that Divination had never existed. 

‘Ooh, is Mummy having a headache, now? She doesn’t look too happy, does she, Harry?’ 

The sight of James coming down the hall, rocking Harry in his arms, made her smile faintly. He really was wonderful with Harry – she’d never seen him so enraptured. James held their baby up to her and Lily took him into her arms. Harry batted at her arm, his little fingers opening and closing as he did so. He managed to grasp a lock of her hair, and he tightened his hand around it. 

‘Ow …’ Lily gently loosened his grip. Harry blinked up at her, looking for all the world like James when she’d caught him in an act of mischief – except those were her own eyes staring back at her. James seemed to realise this, too, for he chortled. 

‘The innocent act doesn’t work on her, Harry. Believe me, I’ve tried.’ 

‘Except you don’t do innocent as well as Harry, James.’ 

James sniffed. ‘Just because he’s ten times smaller –’ 

‘And much more adorable. Plus, he _is_ innocent. Though between you and Sirius, I’m not sure how long that’ll last.’ 

‘Please. We wouldn’t corrupt the baby. Not at all.’ Harry gurgled as James reached out a finger to tickle him. ‘Look who’s happy now,’ he said, grinning. 

Lily bent her head down towards Harry, drinking in his fresh, powdery infant smell. The boxes could wait, she decided, while she spent some family time with Harry and James. And to hell with Voldemort and the prophecy. They’d keep Harry safe, no matter what, and he’d always be loved. 

~ * ~ 

_Hallowe’en, 1980_

Harry loved the pumpkin. James had cut two triangular-shaped eyes out rather clumsily with a knife (the plaster on his thumb attested to his lack of dexterity with the tool) and made a lopsided grin to match. Harry wouldn’t stop poking his fingers through the holes and waggling them, giggling madly as he did so. He yelled out in delight as his hands came out of the pumpkin’s mouth, covered in wet, orange flesh. 

‘That’s a _pumpkin_ , Harry,’ said Lily, as Harry happily smeared orange goo over the front of her robes. ‘Can you say “ _pumpkin_ ”?’ 

‘Goo!’ cried Harry indistinctly but quite accurately, as he was pointing to the orange blob across her chest. 

‘Food fight, Harry?’ said James, grinning. ‘Sounds like a good idea!’ 

‘Oh – for heaven’s sake, James. _You_ can clean up.’ 

‘Don’t mind if I do.’ He winked at her and took the last piece of pumpkin pie. ‘Cleaning up the food off the plates, that is!’ 

She gave him an exasperated look, which he returned with what he obviously felt was a winning smile. 

‘You make a hell of a pie, Lily – even without magic!’ 

‘James! Don’t swear in front of Harry, will you? I won’t forgive you if his first word’s a curse!’ 

‘No, that won’t happen,’ said James confidently. ‘Come on, Harry, say “Dad”. Then Daddy will be happy, and Mummy will be happy, too, because it wasn’t “he-” all _right_ , Lily, I didn’t say it!’ 

A shout of laughter from the baby made them turn – and stare. The pumpkin was levitated in mid-air, wobbling slowly towards James. Lily felt her eyes widen as she looked from Harry to the pumpkin and back again. Surely not … it couldn’t be, he was too young … 

The pumpkin hovered over the head of a very dumbstruck James, and then the Levitation Charm lost its grip. James brought his hands up to shield himself just as the pumpkin splattered over him. 

‘Pie!’ Harry clapped his hands happily. 

Lily burst out laughing. ‘ _Clever_ boy, Harry! Daddy wanted more pie, didn’t he?’ What a weapon to be able to wield over James – Harry’s first magic had been to play a prank on him. Poetic justice indeed! 

‘Oh that’s right, let’s all pick on Daddy,’ complained James, wiping his face. ‘I –’ 

The sharp ring of the doorbell cut him off. Lily froze suddenly, jarred out of her joyous mood. _Shit – accidental magic … it’s harder to track, but not impossible!_

‘He wouldn’t … not this fast …’ James must have been thinking along the same lines. ‘It’s … it’s probably Sirius?’ 

‘Why’d he ring the doorbell?’ Lily tried to keep the note of panic out of her voice. ‘He can just Apparate in, he’s authorised –’ 

‘Take Harry,’ said James in a low voice. ‘Take Harry; I’ll go and – and have a look. It’s probably nothing.’ However, he didn’t sound at all convinced. 

‘James –’ The gleam of fear in his eyes silenced her. He wasn’t afraid for himself; it was for Harry and her that he worried. Lily snatched up Harry as he disappeared down the hall and tried to fix her mind on a destination where she could safely Disapparate to should the need arise. 

She heard the front door click open … waited with bated breath … 

‘Trick or treat!’ 

She might have collapsed if she hadn’t been holding Harry in her arms. As it was, she held a hand out against the wall, steadying herself. 

Children. Only children. 

Their laughter could be heard travelling down the hall. Weak with relief, Lily went to join James at the door. He was staring dumbfounded at the group of five children on their doorstep, clad in strange costumes: two in sheets with round eye-holes; one looking very much like the pumpkin Harry had just smashed; another in what was probably meant to be a pirate suit; the last had secured black robes (or was it just a loose black dress?) and a pointy wizard’s hat.

‘Happy Hallowe’en, ma’am,’ chirped the pirate-suit boy upon seeing her. He held up a small cloth bag hopefully. ‘Happy Hallowe’en,’ she replied, feeling a bit confused – surely these were Muggle children, but as far as she knew, Muggles didn’t celebrate Hallowe’en. The tallest of the group, the robed girl, must have noticed her bewilderment. 

‘We do this back home,’ said the girl. She had a drawling American accent. ‘Go door to door all dressed up, and you’re supposed to give us candy or we play a trick on you – well, people usually just give us candy, so we’ve never done a trick before. And we probably won’t, even if you don’t have any candy.’ The children looked a bit crestfallen at the prospect, however. It seemed a strange sort of American custom, but Lily thought it’d be easy enough to play along. 

‘I think we can manage the treat. Sweets,’ she mouthed to James. Catching on, he disappeared inside and returned shortly with his arms laden with … 

Lily stifled a groan. James obviously hadn’t been thinking, because he was cheerfully filling the children’s bags with Chocolate Frogs and Sugar Quills. Lily hoped the poor children, who were beaming at their hoard as they left the house, wouldn’t get too much of a shock when their chocolates leapt out of the packages. 

~ * ~ 

_Christmas, 1980_

Lily didn’t have high hopes for Christmas. Her nerves were keyed up to the highest string the whole day. It was irrational to be particularly afraid – Voldemort could choose any day of the year to attack if he intended to, after all – but past Christmas horrors kept giving her a feeling of foreboding. She couldn’t help but remember Ash Christmas … the car crash the following year … last year’s nasty Howler … 

_Relax_ , she told herself. They were all here – Sirius, Peter, and they had even managed to drag Remus away from whatever obscure mission he was on these days to spend the day with them. The four men were currently playing with Harry now, who was thriving under their attention. 

There was Sirius, transformed into a great shaggy black dog. Harry batted at his fur curiously, grabbing great fistfuls of it. James howled with laughter as Sirius gave a most un-canine wince. There was a flash of orange smoke as Peter caught the expression on the camera he’d brought along. 

Remus, Lily observed, was holding himself aloof from the other three. He sat quietly in the corner, watching the antics of Sirius and Harry – and James, who kept mercilessly egging Harry to prod at Sirius – with a distracted sort of look. 

‘Is everything all right?’ asked Lily. 

Remus started at the question. Lily noticed with slight concern that he looked ill – his face was paler than she remembered, and he looked distinctly haggard. It was true that none of them were looking their best, what with worry about the war. James and Sirius were both very thin and had bags under their eyes most of the time from the hours they kept. Even Peter had lost weight and there were wrinkles working themselves into his forehead. However, Remus looked as though he’d aged more over this war than the three of them combined. Had it to do with his lycanthropy? Lily found herself trying to recall all that James had told her about Remus’s ‘illness’. When had the last full moon been? (She’d long forgotten all she’d learnt in Astronomy about lunar cycles.) Might that have any effect on his appearance and energy during the full moon period? Lily seemed to recollect incidences of Remus’s recurring lethargy in school. 

‘Yes it is, Lily,’ Remus said then, answering her question with a strained sort of smile. 

‘I expect Dumbledore’s keeping you horribly busy – no, don’t worry, I won’t pry,’ she assured, ‘I just hope you’re getting enough rest. Has it been a full moon recently? James didn’t mention, but he might have gone out …’ 

Remus shook his head. ‘Everyone in the Order is busy now, it’s not just me. And I ought to do more, at any rate. I haven’t got a family to worry about, after all.’ 

Although Remus said this without a note of bitterness, Lily felt a pang of sadness and guilt. They really should have kept tabs on Remus more, looked after him a bit better. ‘You’re always welcome with us, Remus,’ she said, leaning over to pat his arm. ‘Come over, spend time with Harry – it’ll do you good.’ 

Another strained smile. ‘Don’t worry about me, Lily. I’m fine, truly I am. You’re right, though – perhaps I need more rest. I’m quite tired.’ 

She was just about to offer to make him a bed in their spare room when, as it had at Hallowe’en, the doorbell rang. 

The laughter from the three men and Harry stopped as abruptly as if _Silencio_ had been cast. Lily’s eyes travelled over each of them: James’s arms tightened around Harry, hoisting their son into a protective embrace; Sirius’s face tightened and he pulled his wand out of his pocket; Peter turned sheet white and trembled. 

Remus got up, his face blank and unreadable. 

‘Voldemort wouldn’t ring a bell, would he?’ he said calmly, but Lily’s fear overrode logic. If Voldemort _was_ outside … 

Harry let out a wail and James almost dropped him. This brought Lily back to her senses and she went to them and took Harry from James. 

‘You’re squeezing him too tightly,’ she said. James handed her over wordlessly, his eyes following Remus, who was now walking down the hall. 

They heard the door creak open, and then Remus's voice echoed back down to them: ‘Come and see!’ They all let out a collective sigh of relief; it couldn’t possibly be anyone with evil intent. 

It was a group of twelve eager-looking Muggle teenagers, clad in bright-coloured scarves and hats. Christmas carollers. Lily, still carrying Harry, pressed against James as their visitors delivered a hearty rendition of Christmas songs she hadn’t heard since she’d been a girl. Harry, his small face rosy red in the cold air, clapped his hands and tried to sing along at the top of his lungs. He had no words, only an off-key hum, but they all laughed, including the carollers, who were immediately taken with him. 

‘Merry Christmas!’ they cried, when Lily had managed to scrounge up some Muggle money for them, and the carollers continued down the street. 

~ * ~ 

_April, 1981_

Winter passed and with the first spring flowers came hope. Voldemort hadn’t come; perhaps he never would. James knew better than to let his guard down, but he could help but think, _Maybe it isn’t us. He could be chasing down Frank and Alice after all._

Voldemort, however, didn’t seem to have found the Longbottoms either. James learnt this from Frank when he saw him early in April, not long after they watched Benjamin Fenwick get blasted to bits. 

James and Frank had come because there was no choice – the Order was running desperately thin these days, with less than twenty core members, and support dwindling as people grew more and more terrified of Voldemort and his Death Eaters to take a stand. 

And now yet another of their group had been taken out. Benjy’s Patronus, calling for back-up, had arrived too late, and by the time the five of them arrived to help, their compatriot was flying apart into a million pieces before their very eyes. 

Sturgis Podmore flew at the Death Eaters in a rage. ‘Bastards!’ he screamed, curses flying from his wand as he swore violently. But the Death Eater who had disintegrated Benjy laughed maliciously and Disapparated. Frank managed to Stun one, but the others got away. 

They found Benjy’s sister-in-law inside the house, with a child in each arm, her hands pressed tight against their eyes to prevent them from witnessing the gory duel. She was shaking horribly, but when Emmeline Vance held a hand out to her, she batted it away. 

‘I’m sorry,’ said Emmeline. 

‘Wasn’t _Avada Kedavra_ enough?’ hissed Sirius furiously. James didn’t speak. He had a burning urge to curse the unconscious Death Eater on the ground right now. 

‘Uncle Benjy!’ cried one of the children – he couldn’t have been more than six years old. The sick feeling in James’s gut intensified. For a moment he imagined Lily and Harry in Mrs Fenwick’s position. He wanted to go home now, and reassure Lily that he was all right. 

~ * ~ 

It felt good to be out in the bright April sunshine, breathing in fresh spring air. Harry was enjoying the walk as well; his chubby arms waved about as Lily pushed him, in the perambulator, down the street. A Muggle girl jogging past peeked inside and grinned at him. 

Lily had debated long and hard about whether to take Harry out for a walk. In the end, it had been the pervasive worry driving her crazy that had swung her decision. She might as well walk out here as wear a path in the living room carpet. 

Since Harry was born, Lily had felt less and less comfortable whenever James went out on a mission. Even though he was rarely called now, on the few occasions that he was, a tight panic would grip her heart every second that he was gone. Maybe it was because they were now a family, with a son to worry about, that James’s absence scared her more. What would she and Harry do without James? 

Lily was just rounding the block, turning to head home, when her name was called. Her immediate instinct was to reach for her wand. She didn’t let go of it, even when she saw that it was Peter, running down the street towards her, looking sweaty and dishevelled. 

‘Lily, Death Eaters – your house – James – come quick!’ 

Her blood ran cold at this. It was happening. The attack they’d been dreading. _James_. She felt the bubble of panic grow inside her gut. But James had been out, he wouldn’t have – _what if he came back?_

‘Oh God,’ she murmured. She immediately took a step forward to follow Peter, but at the same time, her hands tightened reflexively around the handle of Harry’s pram, and she stopped, caught between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, James might be in trouble; on the other, she couldn’t take Harry with her if the place was now swarming with Death Eaters. ‘

Lily, come on,’ Peter urged. 

She hated that she had to make the decision, but she knew James would have wanted it. Still, her throat clenched around the words. ‘I – we can’t,’ she choked out. ‘You have to – g-get Sirius …’ 

What Peter’s reply was to this, Lily barely heard. She lifted Harry out of the pram and attempted to clear her mind and focus – _determination, destination, deliberation_. Get Harry away from here. Keep him safe. And subconsciously, she thought, _Help James!_

A moment later, she found herself in Sirius’s house, thankfully with Harry still in her arms. He started to cry loudly, but neither of them seemed to have been Splinched, so it was probably the discomfort of Apparition that ailed him. Lily felt too frazzled herself to comfort him properly; sobs were threatening to tear out of her throat. 

‘Sirius!’ she croaked, praying that he was home. ‘Sirius!’ Her second cry, louder and more distinct, echoed through an empty house. 

_Don’t panic,_ Lily tried to tell herself. _Don’t give up hope._ James and Sirius had to be okay – she just needed to find them somehow … 

And then, feeling foolish for not having done so earlier, she cast her Patronus, sending it sprinting out of the house, bearing a message for Sirius and James: 

_I’m at Sirius’s, come quick!_

To her immense relief, they both crashed through the door not too long after. James came straight to her and enveloped her in a great bone-crushing hug that made her gasp for air. 

‘I told you,’ said Sirius, but his voice was more shaky than sure. ‘I told you they were all right.’ 

When James let go of her, Lily found she was trembling. They’d been so very lucky to have escaped. If James hadn’t gone … if she hadn’t been out walking and met Peter … 

‘Peter!’ she gasped. ‘I left him –’ 

Sirius held up a hand. ‘You stay here. I’ll find him.’ 

‘Sirius –’ 

‘Peter should have his head screwed on tight enough not to dash into a house full of Death Eaters. Which is more than I can say for _you_ at the moment.’ He scowled at James. ‘ _Stay_ here with Lily.’ 

James hesitated, then swallowed hard. ‘Be careful.’ 

Sirius nodded once, grimly, and he Disapparated, leaving the three of them alone in the house. 

It took a while to calm Harry, who had been crying through the whole exchange. When at last he was quietly settled in James’s arms, Lily sighed and collapsed into an armchair, feeling as though she’d had enough excitement for months. 

‘I don’t know if I should be angry that you disappeared and I couldn’t find you, or thankful that you’re alive because of it,’ said James. 

‘Don’t,’ Lily told him, shuddering. ‘Don’t think of all the what-ifs. Please.’ 

James stared down at Harry. After a moment, he met Lily’s gaze again. 

‘You know what this means, don’t you?’ 

‘He found us,’ said Lily, feeling stricken. ‘He sent Death Eaters to find us.’ She knew what James was getting at, understood the significance of it, but it was something she couldn’t bear to voice. The words of the prophecy came back to haunt her - _and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal …_

Every hope they’d had that Voldemort might ignore the prophecy or choose Neville Longbottom instead was dashed now – Voldemort’s intentions were perfectly clear. 

He was after Harry. 


	19. 19 Final Sacrifice

**FALLING WITH GRACE** by _shiiki_

**CHAPTER NINETEEN:** **Final Sacrifice**

_October, 1981_

The only light in the room was the glow of Lily’s wand. It threw their faces into sharp relief: Lily, her face screwed up in tense concentration over the spell; Peter’s expression a picture of nervous anticipation.

This was powerful magic taking place, James realised with wonder. He could feel as the charm took root, the magic in the room almost tangible; the air felt thick with it. Harry shifted in his arms, but made not a sound. It was as though he understood, young as he was, the gravity of the moment.

‘Do you accept?’ said Lily, reciting the _Fidelius_ ritual. 

Peter gulped. ‘I do,’ he whispered.

_Thank you_ , thought James. 

‘ _S_ _ecretum celetur_.’ Lily touched the tip of her wand to Peter’s. The light glowed brighter, briefly illuminating the room, then it seemed to transfer to Peter’s wand, dimming as it did, finally leaving them in darkness. 

There was silence, broken only when Harry gurgled softly. 

‘ _Lumos_ ,’ said Lily. The room brightened. She lit the fireplace, staring into the flames for a long moment before turning to face James and Peter.

‘It’s – it’s done?’ asked Peter uncertainly. ‘Did it – did it work?’

Lily nodded, looking exhausted. James thought casting the charm might have drained her. 

‘Sirius is outside,’ Peter reminded them. ‘I’d better go – well … tell him.’ He whispered the last two words reverently, as though he couldn’t quite believe that he held so much power inside him. James didn’t blame him; it was hard to wrap his own mind about the fact.

Peter left and returned minutes later with Sirius, who looked at Lily in awe.

‘It disappeared,’ he said, amazement evident in his voice. ‘Just – vanished. And then Peter – he seemed to Apparate in front of me … And when he told me where you were – it was like I’d forgotten the address – the house, it appeared again. You really did it, Lily.’

‘Yes,’ she said quietly, her face still drawn and tired. 

‘You’re sure I won’t be able to give anything away if …’ Sirius gazed expectantly at Lily. 

‘Only the Secret-Keeper can divulge the secret,’ Lily assured him. ‘Even if you wanted to tell, you’d never be able to.’

Sirius nodded, determination flaring in his eyes. ‘Good,’ he said, and he seemed to be steeling himself. James thought he could understand why. He felt anxiety take root in the pit of his stomach.

‘Sirius –’ he began.

Sirius scowled at him. ‘We discussed this,’ he said shortly. He held out his arms for Harry. James handed his son over. ‘It’s for Harry.’ Sirius smoothed the jet-black down on Harry’s head and looked up. He met James’s eyes solemnly. ‘We’ll keep him safe, and watch him grow up. I promise.’

Lily placed her hand on Sirius’s shoulder and said what James wanted to but couldn’t due to the lump in his throat. ‘We want you to be safe, too.’ She glanced at Peter. ‘Both of you.’

Peter nodded. ‘I’m not looking to die,’ he said faintly. 

‘No one will come after you, Wormtail.’ Sirius handed Harry to Lily. ‘I’ll make sure of it. Everything’s going to be fine.’ He turned to James again and repeated, ‘I promise.’

James held Sirius’s gaze. ‘I’ll hold you to that,’ he finally said, trying to smile. 

None of them seemed to know what to say after that. It was several moments before Peter broke the silence. ‘Sirius, we’d better be going. It’s getting late.’

They both said goodbye to Lily and Harry, and James walked them to the door.

‘You’ll check in with us, won’t you?’

‘I’ll look in on you – and Pete,’ Sirius nodded at Peter, ‘in a week.’

And that was that. His two friends walked out into a world that had just become a great deal more dangerous for them. James shut the door behind them, wondering how his heart could feel so hollow, and yet so heavy at the same time.

~ * ~ 

Lily pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window. She watched as a Muggle lady jogged past and up to the door of Number Five next door. It still felt weird that she could see the people outside, but no one could see her, or even the house she was in. She wondered what the Muggles thought of the fact that between Number One and Number Five there was no longer a Number Three, Godric’s Hollow.

It was like being invisible. Even after a week, she wasn’t used to it, and she didn’t know if she ever would be. How long would this sentence last? Probably until Voldemort fell – and who knew when that would be? Lily did not allow herself to think the morbid thought, _what if it never ends?_

Imagining the future as a shadow family – hidden and unseen by everyone except for Sirius and Peter – was too painful to contemplate. Thinking about the present wasn’t much better; although for the first time in months – maybe even years – she felt safe, it came on the backs of sacrifices James’s closest friends had made, and that troubled her. 

Her mind drifted back to when things had really started going downhill, back in April – that first lucky escape. The first confirmation they’d received that Harry had been targeted. Was _being_ targeted. 

Since then it had been a constant nightmare trying to stay a step ahead of Voldemort. They’d tried lying low in the Muggle world; Remus had even suggested writing to Petunia for help, hoping she might have some Muggle contacts – this definitely qualified as an emergency worth troubling her. However, no response ever came. By the end of two months, during which they had moved three times on the mere suspicion that there might have been a leak to Voldemort regarding their whereabouts, Lily had been forced to admit that either her post had got lost, or Petunia simply didn’t care. Lily knew that James firmly believed the latter, and while a part of her was angry that he did, she didn’t try a second letter, for fear that it might prove him right.

It wasn’t long after that the possibility of a spy in their midst arose. Sirius had been the first to point a finger at Remus – a chilling suspicion, especially considering the ‘help’ he had offered Lily in writing to Petunia. James refused to believe it, but Lily thought it was more that he didn’t want to face the idea that any of his close friends would betray him, rather than that he possessed any evidence to the contrary.

Much as she hated it, she was forced to admit that Sirius’s argument had logic. She had lost count around their fifth or sixth move, and while several times it had been more of a practice of constant vigilance than an actual emergency, they’d still had enough close shaves to believe that Voldemort knew more about their movements than he should.

Dumbledore himself had asserted his belief that there was a traitor among them. While Lily and James met with Dumbledore, Sirius had helped to look after Harry, and when they’d returned to tell him … Lily shivered as she remembered the dark anger that had blackened Sirius’s face. 

They’d stayed up the rest of the night in worried discussion – one that Lily could still replay in her mind – and that was when Sirius had reached his convincing conclusion.

_Remus had been becoming increasingly distant, especially over the past year. He’d offered little information about his own life and activities – ‘It could be secret work for the Order,’ James interjected, but his tone was desperate; he was trying to find an excuse, any excuse._

_‘And he’s a werewolf, James –’ Sirius continued, whereupon James exploded._

_‘So that makes him evil? Sirius, you’ve never sounded more like a Black!’_

_He had crossed a line, and they all knew it immediately. Fortunately, Sirius seemed to recognise that James was simply distraught, and managed, though it looked to be with considerable effort, not to blow up at James. Lily thought she ought to step in._

_‘Voldemort’s recruiting, James, you know he is – you know he has been all along. And Sirius isn’t saying that we should mistrust Remus because he’s a werewolf. It’s just – given all other circumstances … he might have … succumbed.’_

_James looked from her to Sirius, his expression defeated._

_‘You – you both think it’s Remus, then?’_

_‘Bloody hell, James – someone is giving you away. It’s either me –’ James’s eyes widened and he shook his head furiously, ‘– Peter, or Remus.’_

It was ludicrous to imagine either Sirius or Peter as a traitor. Sirius – he had always loved James like a brother … he’d turned his back on his family and all it stood for long ago. And Lily only had to see the way he looked at Harry (it was amusing sometimes to see handsome, dashing Sirius Black turn into a sentimental puddle before his godson) to know that he would do anything to keep Harry safe.

As for Peter – meek, unassuming Peter, who was always so affable – she could no more imagine him playing the role of a double agent as she could herself.

Which left Remus, and a set of potentially suspicious circumstances, which she wouldn’t have thought twice about if it hadn’t been that someone was a spy. He could be innocent … or not. And they really couldn’t afford to take chances. Not when their lives – and more importantly, Harry’s – were at stake. 

The Fidelius Charm had really been their only option. They had had many lucky escapes up til now, but both Lily and James had worried constantly: what would happen when their luck ran out?

Fidelius meant absolute secrecy. It was the ultimate hiding tool, and the beauty of it was that they could live anywhere, even the most obvious place. They could go home. 

And so they had. And together with Sirius, they had hatched a plan. 

There had been no doubt in either of their minds that Sirius would be their Secret-Keeper. Lily knew that no person could be more loyal to James than his best friend – his brother. Sirius, however, had been uneasy about the arrangement.

‘That’s the problem,’ he had said. ‘It’s too obvious. I’d be the first person anyone would look for.’

‘You’ll hide, then.’

‘You should know how hard it is to hide effectively from Voldemort, James.’

‘But what else can we –’

‘This is what we do: Peter will be your Secret-Keeper.’

‘ _Peter_? You can’t be serious – that’s like offering him to Voldemort on a silver platter!’

‘No, listen. Peter keeps the secret, and _I_ act as a decoy. Who would believe that you’d ask him, after all? I mean, anyone who knows him would assume he’d crack the moment Voldemort _looked_ at him.’

‘That’s horrible, Sirius,’ Lily had admonished. Peter might be meek, but he was surely braver than that.

‘I’m not saying he _would_ , but you can’t deny that people think so.’

‘What about you, then?’ James had cut in sharply. ‘Surely you’re not suggesting that you bring Voldemort down on you –’

‘That’s _exactly_ what I mean.’

‘No.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘No. It’s bad enough that we even have to ask you to be Secret-Keeper – at least you’d be hiding well away then. You’re not putting yourself into _more_ danger, setting yourself up as bait!’

‘It’s a good plan, James.’

‘Not if you die in the process!’

‘Would you rather Harry did?’

Sirius had found the crucial argument. Lily still felt guilty for thinking the way she did. Should it come down to a choice between Harry’s life and Sirius’s, she’d pick Harry’s. She hadn’t been able to look Sirius in the eye, knowing that. 

Lily sighed and shut the curtains. It had taken more entreating, with promises that Sirius would be careful, but James had finally given in. Sirius had paid for their safety at high cost to his own. She could only hope they’d all make it through this, and be able to repay him somehow when it was all over.

‘You all right?’ James had come down from putting Harry to bed. 

Lily moved away from the window. ‘Harry asleep?’ she asked, avoiding his question. James knew her too well to be distracted, however. He nodded, and pulled her down onto the sitting room couch with him. 

‘What are you thinking of?’

She sighed and leant her head against him. ‘Sirius. I’m worried, James. He’s doing this for us, and I feel horrible about it.’ She glanced up guiltily. ‘I’m sorry. I know you’re worried, too – I’m not helping much, am I?’

James ran a comforting hand down the back of her head. ‘Sirius will be fine,’ he said grimly. ‘He knows I’d murder him if he didn’t take care.’

Lily laughed shortly at his attempt to joke, to lighten the situation somehow, but the humour was short-lived. They lapsed back into silence. 

‘Do you feel selfish sometimes?’ Lily wondered after a while. ‘As though we chose Harry – and ourselves … at the expense of Sirius?’

James nodded. ‘I hate the whole situation. But he was right – in the end, it was his choice to make. He chose to risk his life for Harry. And if it ever came down to it, so would I, so … I have to accept that this is what he wants to do.’

Lily shivered. Their conversation seemed to have taken on a foreboding nature, as though something bad was about to happen … but no, that was absurd. They were safe here. Her mind was just being paranoid, after all those months of being constantly on the alert. 

There was a knock on the door. James brightened as he got to his feet.

‘It must be Sirius or Peter, checking in,’ he said in relief.

‘Thank God,’ Lily breathed. It would be good to see either one of them, just to know they were alive.

She waited as James walked down the hall, heard the door open … and then she froze, horror-struck, as a series of crashes and bangs ensued. Something had to be horribly wrong …

‘Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off –’ James’s voice was cut off by a loud _bam_!

_No. No! We were safe! How …?_

Fear seared through her, along with guilt. Sirius must be dead. Peter must be dead. James would be dead if she didn’t do something soon. This thought galvanised her leaden limbs into action. 

_Wand, wand_ – where was her wand? _Shit_ – she’d left it upstairs, in the bedroom. So much for vigilance! She cursed as she charged up the stairs, tripping and stumbling along the way. How could she have left her guard down, left her wand beyond arm’s reach? 

_Because we thought we were safe. We were supposed to be safe!_

At least James’s wand had been with him. _Please don’t let Voldemort kill him!_ As she burst through the bedroom door, she heard a cackle of high-pitched laughter, and her panic increased. _Oh God, he’s really here._

Upstairs, Harry was wailing – the noise must have woken him up. _Harry_. She had to get him out of here. Get him away to safety, and then come back and help James. James would – James _had_ to stay alive until then. 

The flash of green light from downstairs seemed to knock the wind out of her.

_No!_

Her vision blurred. Her fingers scrabbled wildly on her beside table – somehow they found her wand and snatched it up. Harry’s cries were intensifying, the only sound left now; the crashing and banging from downstairs had ceased, but she didn’t want to think about what that meant.

She focused on Harry. Her son, her baby – Harry. She had to save him. 

But she had barely entered the nursery when a spell caught her in the back and flung her across the room, against Harry’s crib. Her wand went soaring out of her hands, sailing straight into the long fingers of Voldemort.

‘Lily Evans,’ he said, almost cordially. ‘I beg your pardon – Lily Potter now, of course.’

‘Go away!’ she screamed, as though it would help. Voldemort merely smiled, a horrible, twisted, mocking leer.

‘Now, that isn’t very welcoming. Neither was your husband, I’m afraid. But no matter. I’m not here to enjoy your hospitality. Where is the boy?’

She felt her fingers tighten around the bars of Harry’s crib as Voldemort advanced. She shook her head frantically. No. No. Not Harry. Not Harry.

‘Not Harry!’

But what good would it do? He was going to kill her, kill her and then he would kill Harry anyway, murder her baby, as he had killed James …

‘Just give me the boy, Lily Potter. Give me the boy, and you will live.’

Wasn’t he going to kill her? Why was he stopping to bargain with her? She didn’t understand it at all … but whatever was going on, she’d never give Harry up to Voldemort. Even if it meant putting her own life up on the line. She continued to shake her head, sobbing now.

‘Not Harry, not Harry, please – I’ll do anything …’

‘Stand aside – stand aside, you silly girl.’ The bastard was _amused_. ‘Stand aside, now.’

‘No!’ she screamed at him. ‘Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead!’

He was laughing now, a cold, high-pitched laugh that was increasing her hysterical state. Even though she knew Voldemort had no pity in him, no mercy, she could only cry, scream, and beg – she had no weapons, no protection, nothing but herself to place between Harry and the monster who wanted him dead. Only herself to sacrifice. As long as she had a breath of life left in her, she would give it.

Maybe if she had been less distraught, something might have clicked in her mind – her love for her son, her willingness to sacrifice herself … somewhere in a distant, long-forgotten, closely-guarded secret memory, she might have put two and two together and figured out why Voldemort might want her alive, and how that could be the key to saving Harry. 

But all coherent thought had left her, except for the mantra, ‘Not Harry!’ And this she repeated until a rush of green light stole the words from her lips and the breath from her lungs. Lily Potter, as she fell, would never know that in death, she had worked the most powerful, most protective magic the world would ever see.

Harry Potter, however, would.

 

-The End-

 

* * *

_**A/N** : The final chapter. Wow. It’s been a year and a half since I first started posting the trilogy, and what an amazing journey it’s been! Over the course of writing this story, I have learnt new things and met the most wonderful people who unfailingly make my day with their awesome reviews._

_I can’t possibly say goodbye without a huge shoutout to my fantastic beta, **jamc91** , who bravely soldiered through all three parts of the trilogy, and even agreed to stay on when I needed to up the pace to meet the pre-DH goal. She is amazing, and deserves a huge round of applause for all the hard work she put in!_

_I also want to say a special thank you to **Angela** for her cheerleadering and unwavering support, and for making me feel like a million bucks when she asked to translate _ Ashes _and_ Embers _. Thank you!_

_I wish I could thank all the rest of you marvellous readers by name as well, but there are so many more of you than I ever anticipated. I am very, very grateful for all your support._

_So – new canon is arriving soon. Here’s to more vivid detail from JKR about this era (yes, even if it renders this whole story A/U). May they spark more L/J and Marauder fics! :)_

_Thank you all for reading,  
 **shiiki**_

 


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